Fakir and Duck Afterstory
by Super Robot Malinarlen
Summary: He's so mean! Fakir never listens to me and always keeps me locked in his room. I may be just a duck, but I have feelings too! Geez, nothing has changed. The prince got his happy ending, but where's mine?...What's this? A story about me? This title...
1. The Duck Daughter

**Attention Duelists– er– Beta Readers: Chapters 1-8 need superior editing! If you've got the mojo, send me any fixed chapter and, if it's got the right stuff, I'll re-upload the old one with it, credit you, and bestow eternal glory upon your name. (You can send it through PM or even just put it in a review, it's cool.)  
**

**Without further ado, the story...**

* * *

Once upon a time there was a couple who longed to have a child of their own.

But the couple's time together was _always _consumed with gathering enough food for survival.

Time passed them by and their faces creased with old age; their hair grayed and whitened...

One day when picking mushrooms in the forest, they found a little duck with a broken wing... and so they took it home to substitute it as their child.

But whenever they left to go gather, they'd come back to find the mysterious markings of a stranger.

The house was cleaner. There was always bread on the table.

Sooner or later, they heard town rumors of a mysterious girl in their house.

And they began to suspect that their lame little duck was anything–

but a mere fledgling.

* * *

"Quaquaqua qua... quaaaaack!"

"Qua... QUAACK!"

"Hold still you moron." He grumbled as he slid the gauze wrap off her wing. The duck just wouldn't stop squirming around.

"Quack..." She obeyed, albeit despondently.

"You listen to me. You stay in your nest until I get back tonight. Don't you dare be making any more noise. And stop jumping around! My room's a complete mess thanks to you." Fakir ranted, slamming the door behind the little yellow duck.

"Quaaaack..." Duck cried. _Locked in his room again._

_He never listens to what I have to say._

Silently, she shuffled her webbed feet across the floor and scampered up from his chair to his desk. By the time she lifted up his dark blue curtains with her bill, she saw him already stubbornly stalking off down the street. He was heading towards the academy.

_He promised to be with me forever. _

_But he always leaves me here with nothing to do. And when he does return, it's always just for a few hours. It's so boring._ Duck puffed out her cheeks in annoyance.

_He always spends his time at the academy instead. He must still live there most of the time, probably._

The duck sighed and sat her fluffy yellow duck butt on a cushy leather-bound book.

_But I guess it can't be helped. He graduates this year, after all. All that writing and testing must be tough. And animals aren't allowed at the academy anymore._

_It must be hard for him._

_And I can't really talk anyways._

_..._

_I'm just a boring duck._

"Quaaaaack..." She sighed again, leaning back against a stack of books. Without much resistance, the books slid and went flying– sending her toppling onto the ground...

–Where she knocked over more stacks of books and such.

"QUAAAACK!" She trumpeted, rolling onto a pile of scattered papers.

_Oh... He's going to be so mad at me again._

She cried tears from her enormous blue duck eyes.

"Quaaaaa..."

_...Well..._

_I guess I should clean this up._ She decided, looking down at the papers. _These must be his essays. He's had to write a lot of them lately. _

_..._

_He's so smart, there's hardly any red marks on these pages._

_Of course he'd get fed up with a clumsy duck like me._

She gathered each page between her feathers- like with the fingers she once had when she was a real girl.

_Hmm? What's this? It doesn't seem to be a school paper._ Duck observed. She winced her eyes. Though she could speak the human language well enough and she learned a lot in mandatory afterschool lessons– she still hadn't completely mastered reading and writing.

Duck read the title, though:

_The Lame Duck Girl._

...Lame Duck Girl?...!

_Wha... what is this? Why is this just lying around- is he trying to make fun of me? _Duck fumed, slapping the paper down on the ground.

_But that's odd. He always takes his stories back with him. I saw him stuff them into his bag before he left–_

But Duck suddenly remembered.

He was hastily stuffing papers into his bag this morning indeed, but out of the corner of her eye, little Duck could've sworn that she saw something fall out and slide across the floor.

Curious, Duck edged towards the paper and hung over it in an attempt to read the rest:

_Once upon a time, there was a lame little duck. She was very moronic. _

_Everywhere she went, she brought lots of trouble and always made her knight very upset. _

Duck stopped reading, fuming in humiliation. _Moronic?...! _

This was definitely about her.

"Quack quack– QUACK QUACK QUACK!" She ran around in rage. _That's it, I'm not reading anymore. _Duck cleared her throat and sat down stubbornly.

But time passed all too slowly in the dark little room. _So boring..._ Duck thought.

And before Duck knew it, she was back, peering over the paper.

_If this story is about me... Shouldn't I read it? _

_Since it's written by Fakir, the chances of it becoming true, if not already, are..._

She read on:

_Though this little duck was rash, impertinent, and way too perky– for some reason she made up for it with her enormous heart, willpower, and kind of cute voice. And sometimes the way she walked, maybe. _

Duck glowered in annoyance. _I don't know whether to be flattered or insulted._

But Duck read on. If they were Fakir's words, they were written truthfully...

as painful as that was.

The rest read:

_Anyways. She was once a girl. Nothing bad happens at all, and the duck turns into a girl for real as soon as possible. Then she stops giving the knight so much trouble and finally listens to whatever he tells her to do. The End._

"QUACKQUAQUACKQUACK!" Duck screeched, flapping her wings in frustration. _Oh Fakir, that's not how you write a story at all!_

_You may write good essays, but your stories stink. _Duck sulked.

_And why did you give it such a random title? It had absolutely nothing to do with the story!_

_And what do you mean, 'I start listening to what you tell me to do?...!'_

In frustration, the little duck plucked a feather from her rear. "QUACK!" _Ouch!_ She honked. Rushing up to the desk, she dipped it in an ink well and ran back to the paper.

Quickly, she set herself into action, sketching and scribbling everything she had to say.

"Quack!" She proclaimed, stepping back to look at her work proudly. There was no way Fakir could ignore the little duck's requests now.

With not much else to do, Duck set back to work, tidying up the room.

Unbeknownst to her, however, the wet ink on the paper was eerily glimmering with the words she wrote:

_But before all that, the dumb knight stops treating her like an animal and sees her as a real girl!_

"Quaaaack..." Duck quivered. The door had opened. Was it night already? She wondered.

Footsteps came near her. She was far too relaxed to do anything, that lazy little duck; for the nest Fakir had given her was made from the softest down and reeds that she had ever nestled upon.

...

Though the room was void of all noise, this was soon disrupted by the sound of a paper shuffling.

Duck froze, terror rousing her from her relaxation. Was he actually reading what she wrote?

And she had forgotten to clean up all of the recent mess she had made! _I fell asleep!_ Duck panicked.

His footsteps paced closer, and she felt a hand reach and snatch her up. "Qua- QUAAAACK!" Duck struggled. He was mad! He stared at her intensely.

Then he held her firm like a teacup and pecked her on the bill with his mouth. Once.

Duck froze in complete and utter bewilderment.

"...W-what... Do you have any complaints with that?..." He threatened, setting her back down in the nest to recover. Duck had already gone stiff from the shock.

He sat down on the floor, his back turned to her–leaning against his bed.

"That's how it would be... If you were a real girl..." Fakir hushed.

She couldn't see his face, so she couldn't tell from his expression.

But his voice sounded so sad.

_But if I was a real girl, he wouldn't be able to hold me like a teacup and..._

Duck suddenly blushed in realization.

"Do you even understand what I meant that day? You're not a girl. You're a duck. It doesn't matter what kind of story I write about you, you're still a duck after it's finished... But that's fine. Just... forget about this notion of you ever being a girl. It doesn't suit you." He finished.

His words shot through the little duck's heart like shards of ice.

_Fakir... You're so..._

Tears poured from her eyes.

Her beak quivered.

"QUAAAAAACK!" Duck screeched in outrage, flying off across the room and flapping against the window.

Fakir turned his head around in alert, "Duck! ...Were you–"

_So mean! So mean! Such a hurtful thing to say! Now that I've–_

Her bill smacked into the latch and sent the window swinging open– and her tumbling outside.

The cool fresh night sky invited her, in Princess Tutu's words, to come dance with her.

Her animal instincts took over, and she was soon soaring far away from the dark and boring room... where her hopes and dreams had been held captive...

until now.

~The words on the paper have been set in motion. A plain kiss still holds its power if it's done with true love?~

* * *

**Google "illust_id=6651302" for cover art. It's by a Japanese Pixiv artist named Iri. (イリ)  
**


	2. The Duck Goose Bride

Once upon a time, there was an old couple who began to suspect that their lame little duck, was anything but a fledgling.

So one day, the couple thought up a plan to make the duck reveal its true nature. After carefully discussing their plan, they hid and yelled loudly that they were leaving to go gather.

The little duck, certain that they were now gone, transformed into a young girl before their eyes and set to work in the kitchen.

To confirm that what they saw was real, the couple ran into the bedroom and found the duck's nest– empty.

An unsettling mixture of _greed_ and _love_ overpowered the old couple– now at last they could have a child all to themselves.

As the girl rushed into the room to see what the sound was, the couple threw the duck's nest into the fire–

And watched it burn.

* * *

Duck flapped with all her passion. Soaring through the pale light of the blue evening sky– peaking the heavens, she saw the fullness of the moon before falling back through the clouds.

Though she was a teen in human years, she was but a mere fledgling in duck years.

And a fledgling like her was not meant to fly.

So Duck fell back down to the earth, swirling as she flapped and honked with all her might.

But nothing helped her stay airborne.

Crashing down upon a tree in the forest, she hit every branch she met on the way down– finally falling onto the padding of a large and soft mushroom.

"Quaaaack..." Duck mumbled. _Wha... What happened?_

Dizzily, Duck reared her head to view her surroundings. Woozily, the clear water before the little duck came into focus.

_Am I back at the lake?..._

She wondered. So she flapped and took one jump off of the mushroom.

Her wing ached in fresh pain. _Oh... and it had just healed. Maybe this is why Fakir had told me to sit still all this time._

She shook her duck head.

_Oh!... Who cares what that Fakir thinks! He'd keep me in a cage if it were more convenient!_

Duck waddled towards the water and jumped in with a splash. Floating atop the water, she swam towards the center of the lake.

_I remember... When jumping into the water like this used to..._

Duck looked down at her reflection on the water– a melancholy glimmer set into her sky blue eyes.

_I'm not a girl anymore. I was never a girl._

_But why do I have these feelings?_

Tears shed from Duck's eyes into the water. Slowly, the water rippled around her. In the moonlight, other ducks pranced into the water, jumping off the ledges of the lake and floating in unison atop its crystal surface.

"Quack. Quack." They shouted. _It's the little duck. She's back! The fledgling that no mother raised._

"Quaaaack..." Duck replied. That's right, no mother raised her.

When she was but an egg, her mother must've kicked her out of the nest.

The egg rolling down and away, it was said that the fat old gander at the bottom of the hill found the egg and sat upon it. All day and all night he warmed the egg, until at last, it hatched.

The ducks parted on the water. Slowly, the fat old gander swam, swayingly, towards her.

"HOOOOONK." The gander called. _My little daughter._

"Quack." Duck replied. _Papa?_

_Where have you been all this time, my little daughter? I heard unsightly rumors– rumors of you walking amongst the humans and even falling in love!_

_This makes your papa very upset._

The old gander honked.

_But papa! _Duck cried.

_You dry your tears, little one. Think no more of the stupid human who broke your heart. For tonight, you are going to marry one whom you belong with. One of your kind who will cherish you forever._

And the gander honked loudly again. Then thrice. The water rippled once more as the ducks parted to make way. Resolutely, a husky but younger gander floated across the water.

"Hooonk. Honk." He greeted. _Beautiful duck. You shall marry me._

Duck froze in terror. _But... But..._

_I've never even met you before!_

Her father gander shook his head and honked.

_Oh, but you have! He is my sister's eldest son. You once played together when you were but two weeks old. But of course you've already forgotten. You are already several months old. Such memories fade when you grow older._

"Quaaack!" Duck shook her head in horror. _No! No! I don't want to marry someone I don't have feelings for. I can't... Papa!_

The ducks swam closer, encircling the little duck so that there was no where for her to swim.

"Quack quack quack!" They all laughed. She heard their murmuring.

_How fitting! Such a fitting marriage. For such a strange little duck. _

_Marrying into the family of geese suits her well!_

_Ha hahahaha!_

Duck closed her eyes in heartbreak. _But... Fakir... he..._

The gander honked in his sudden rage. _You will forget about any human! Know your place, your father knows what's best for you._

And soon after that was said, the ducks began to quack in perfect unison.

The great grandmother duck brought the beautiful wedding crown of reeds and placed it upon Duck's little mopey head.

And the marriage procession between the little Duck and the strong young Gander began.

Elsewhere, the knight tore through the dark forest. "Duck! Duck, where are you?...!" He screamed, ripping his hands through the dense branches and leaves. _No, Duck... Going out so late at night. What if you're... _

–_What if something eats you?_

_You're just a tiny little duck! _

_You moronic duck!_

Clenching his teeth in his tantrum, he tore further through the forest, his ebony hair becoming wild and frazzled with his uncontrollable fury.

"No... it's because she's just a moronic girl! No duck would be this ridiculous and melodramatic. Flying all the way over here. She always acts on impulse!" The knight spat in resentment.

Fighting and careening through the greenery- his hands and arms became torn and bleeding. So destructively did the Knight curse and hurry, that his eyes became weepy and blurry.

Misplacing his next step, he went tumbling through the downward slope of the forest– rolling for what seemed like a hundred moments– crashing through the boughs guarding a steep drop into the lake.

The knight dropped into the water, struggling to find which way was up or down. Finally, he let himself go and floated to the top. Pulling his face out of the cold water, he came to his senses.

Taking place halfway across the pond was a strange procession. Rows of ducks waddled on the water, dancing around the smallest duck and a large bird. The silhouette of the smallest duck, with a strange crown on it's head, was all too familiar to the knight...

"–Duck!" Fakir hastened, backstroking towards the group of waterfowl.

"Quaaaa quaaack quack quackquack." The minister duck recited, loftily lifting his head in his majestic bowler hat.

_And so... littlest Duck. Do you take the great strong young Gander to be your lawfully wedded husband- to care for in sickness and in health, through fire and winter, darkness and day?_

The minister duck questioned.

Duck sobbed uncontrollably. "QUAAACK!"_ No! I can't! I don't love him! I don't want to marry a gander! I'm cursed to never proclaim my love, or else–_

_Stupid little duck! Stupid girl!_

_Marry him! Marry him!_

All the witnessing ducks complained and criticized bitterly behind Duck's back.

_Does she think she still has a chance to love amongst humans? _

_For even the prince himself rejected her in favor of the __**raven's daughter**__!_

Duck froze in hurt and suffering.

_It was true. It was all true..._

"Quaaaack..." She folded her head down.

_My dearest daughter. Do not hurt us any more. Know your place amongst the animals, and make your father proud._ The old fat gander persuaded.

"What the... What are those birds doing?" Fakir questioned in perplexion. He stopped his hurrying and now stealthily paddled nearer.

He stared at the scene of the animals. There was a crowd watching on both sides, two ducks up front, and a grave looking duck in a bowler hat before them.

"Is this... a wedding?" Fakir whispered, finally making sense of the scene before him.

"Impossible... Does Duck... want to be with someone other than me?" He halted, a fear and sorrow deeper than any he ever felt before... welling up inside him.

Instantaneously, the strong young gander forcefully took Duck's wings in his. Duck cried out in pain. _Ow! My wing's still broken. Please...! Stop! It hurts! _

_Somebody!_

_Fakir!_

_Fakir where are you?...!_

_Duck! Stop this nonsense! You shall be my wife! Now agree to your vows and kiss me!_ The gander persisted, pulling her close and putting his beak closer to her struggling bill.

_No! Please! You're a gander, and I'm just a duck!_

_But you found no problems with a human?_

_No! It's true that there were problems, that's not it, but!..._

The knight looked at his duck, crying and struggling against her will. No longer was he wavering. He finally knew what her will was.

He saw that her heart was that of a real girl's.

Rising through the water, the knight no longer withheld his presence. Standing tall above the waterfowl, water pouring off of him, he made himself known.

"You!... –I object!" He declared, the redness in his face rising from the awkwardness.

As harebrained as it inherently was, he now understood what he had to do– he was going to steal away the duck bride.

The ducks honked in a great sea of flapping wings and feathers, rippling and sending the lake into a frenzy.

_What's this? Duck's human lover?_

_The knight?_

_Did he seriously come for her?_

_What a strange human!_

_Such a strange human!_

The knight thought he could hear their words– audible voices amongst the quacking.

The fat old gander spread out the widest breadth of his wingspan and quieted the mobbing waterfowl.

_Silence!_ He honked in his most prestigious voice.

The knight could hear his words... Somehow...

_So... you both want my fine daughter?_

_Then so be it!_

_You two shall duel, and the winner will be proven worthy to be her husband!_

"I understand..." Fakir stated, lowering his head. He took his sword out. "Then I shall duel to the death, if need be. Because to me Duck is anything... but a mere duck." He swept his blade outwards, slicing the air in a powerful swing.

The great strong gander honked, snapping his incredible beak, a beak so powerful– it was capable of snapping off the legs and arms of men.

_I accept as well!_ The great gander proclaimed.

~The battle is waged! A man and a gander– fighting for the love of a duck?...~


	3. The Knight and the Gander

Once upon a time, there was an old couple who tried to keep a lame little duck as their child. When they discovered that the duck was actually a girl, they burned her nest out of excitement. "No longer will she be a duck!" they proclaimed wildly, stricken with delight.

But the girl was watching. "You... You destroyed my feathery nest," she said, running to the flames. "Why have you done this?" She burst into tears.

"Do not cry... come, become our daughter!" the couple said, trying to comfort her, and grabbing her in their insanity. "Sleep in a bed, not a nest. We shall love you and care for you as our own."

"I would have lived with you forever had you not mistrusted me and burned my feathery nest. Why can't you just accept me for what I am?" She cried.

The old couple, realizing that they were wrong, lowered their heads in shame and began to cry. "Please forgive us... We're sorry... Please tell us how we can ever make it up to you." They begged until she spoke again.

"I don't want anything else anymore. Just give me a spindle and a thread." She sobbed.

So the old couple fulfilled her request, even though their eyes were filled with desperate tears.

And so, the lame little duck girl began to spin the yarn outside, waiting and watching. Her former flocks saw her and began to beg for her back, for she was such a good girl.

But she would not accept any of them, for they had abandoned her in the forest.

Finally, after the passing of each flock, she had enough feathers to cast over herself... and to fly away, fully healed as a duck once more...

Leaving the old couple once again childless.

And all alone.

* * *

The fat old gander flapped his majestic wings, and in no less than a second, the water on which the knight and the great gander stood upon began to rise up as a massive geyser.

"A... battling platform?" Fakir said aloud to himself. But he had not another millisecond to think, for the great strong young gander was soon upon him, snapping at the knight's legs for a quick kill. "Ergh, ha!" he shouted, blocking the gander's beak with his blade. He swept the sword away and swung it side to side, trying to slice the bird in two.

But the gander was far too agile– as husky as he was– for he danced nimbly and speedily on the surging water, being his webbed feet were all too accustomed to it. In comparison, the knight was worse off, for he struggled to keep his foothold on the unsteady spray. Even though it was easier to move around on than in the water, it was far trickier than fighting on solid ground.

_"Fakir! Fakir!" _Duck called out in concern, swimming around the geyser restlessly. No matter how far she rode up the sport, it spat her back out and she could not make it to the top.

_"My daughter, do no interfere!" t_he fat old gander spoke grandly._ "One shall soon be dead, and you will finally have a proper husband."_

_"Papa! Why?" _Duck demanded._ "Neither Fakir nor the Gander should die! Why couldn't you just listen to me? Why does someone have to die for this?!" _Duck cried, shaking her head in horror.

_"My poor, addled daughter. Why didn't you marry the great Gander when you still had the chance? You could've parted from your human lover and no blood would've had to have been spilt." _

_"Why?" Duck repeated, incensed. "Because I don't love the Gander! That's why! Why can't you understand?"_

The old gander huffed, troubled by her youthful defiance._ "Then are you saying you love this human?" _he asked._ "Such nonsense! f you had truly cared about your lover, you would've saved him from his fate and returned to your place among the animals without leading him here tonight. But you were looking for a decisive outcome drawn up by sacrifice, weren't you? Isn't all of this because __**you don't know who you truly love?**"_

Fakir back-stepped and pirouetted his leg away from the snapping beak of the Gander, leaping into the air with his sword held high over his head and ready to strike.

_"Foolish knight! You don't belong with Duck,"_ the strong young gander honked._ "You can't even hear her words. How can you spend the rest of your life with a creature you don't even understand?"_ The strong gander flipped into the air and landed a blow on the knight's leg.

Fakir fell to his knees, his shin soaked red with fresh blood and water. "I can," he said, gasping, "because I truly love Duck." He took his sword back in hand and stood up, blocking a piercing jab from the Gander's forceful bite.

"Quaaaack!" Duck cried. "_Fakir! I know." _She sobbed, paddling up to the base of the forceful geyser. _"Even without words, we shared our feelings... and we fought so hard for the sake of one another. But, enough is enough! I don't want you to suffer anymore because of me!" _Flapping with all her might, the geyser finally grabbed her up in its stream and shot her up and over atop the sputtering geyser.

_"Duck! No!"_ her father cried, unable to believe his beady little eyes.

The great Gander aimed for the knight's legs and tore into it, but just then, Duck shot out between them, forcing them apart and rocketing skywards. "Quaaack–" Duck yelled; "_I don't know what will happen if I say this! I don't know if the curse still forbids me from speaking such words at all. I don't know, I don't know! But even __if I disappear into a speck of light, I know one just thing. _

_Fakir, I love you too!"_

At last, Fakir could hear her words; beneath the guttural quacking he could actually understand what she meant. "Duck... you fool," he uttered, dropping his sword and raising his hands up to catch her.

Stunned by Duck's confession, the great Gander stopped in defeat and gazed upwards– along with all the other waterfowl who watched in awe as Duck fell back towards the knight, her little yellow duck body glowing in an iridescent white light.

Fakir reached up high and caught her firmly in his hands. "You weren't supposed to say that! You were supposed to leave it all to me–" he said, holding her close, paralyzed by the thought that she could fade away. "I said I would protect you, you..."

He could no longer hold onto her.

Duck's limbs shot outwards, and with all her newfound weight on him, Fakir could no longer keep his balance. Holding onto her as tightly as he could– and refusing to let go– he fell off backwards off the platform with Duck hoisted high.

There was an explosive splash where they fell– one which sent up waves of spray and made the geyser crashed down all around in a bubbling fountain. Distraught, the fat old Gander circled the area in which the two had drowned.

After a few minutes of silence, the water fowl all gathered on the waterfront.

_"Daughter... daughter... where are you?"_ the old Gander called._ "Where..." _He lowered his head. "_So you... Really did love each other. Like Odette and the Prince... Must you two drown... to be together at last?"_

Moved to tears, all the ducks and the two ganders instantaneously began to cry and lament their actions.

Lamenting and mourning.

Quacking and honking.

The water began to bubble, and out from its rippling surface stood the dripping knight, carrying _her_ in his arms. "Shut up, you annoying birds," he said. "I'm the Knight,** not** the Prince...!"

Lost for words, the birds all quieted down. But this did not last long, for they soon began their honking about a new form of upset.

_"What... is that... our little Duck?"_ they wondered aloud._  
_

_"What is this strange occurrence?" _some gasped._  
_

_"Is she?...!" _the smarter ones surmised. Indeed. Was she?

"I thought I told you all to shut up!" Fakir yelled. "Idiots." Fearfully looking down at his arms to see what they were all upset about, he stopped in open-mouth disbelief, and for the first time in a long time, he saw Duck as a real girl.

"Fakir," Duck said weakly, grasping her broken arm across her bare chest. "Are you ok?"

His face turned completely red and his heart pounded audibly through his chest as he struggled to contort himself in an effort to look away.

"Huh? What's wrong?" Duck asked, looking down at herself. Her eyes widened in disbelief at what she saw, but then in embarrassment when she saw his reaction. "Kyaa!" she shrieked, jumping out of his arms and back into the water.

~Can a knight's true love break a princess's curse?~


	4. The Wedding Night

"Here. It's dry now." Fakir snapped, looking away and blushing as he handed her his cloak.

"Ah... It's so nice and warm." Duck sighed happily, throwing it on. Fakir snuffed out the fire, kicking the ground in around it.

"We're leaving now, come here. Watch your arm." Fakir commanded, grabbing her up and throwing her over his shoulder– her butt in the air.

"-Fakir!" She cried out in embarrassment. _Don't carry me like that!_

"HOONK." The fat old Gander sighed wistfully. _My little daughter, changing so much and growing up so fast. I hardly recognize her anymore._

"You're... her father. Correct?" Fakir turned his attention to the fat old Gander.

He nodded his gray feathery head.

"That kind of doesn't make sense, but I think I understand... I ask for your permission and grace– ...C-c-concerning your daughter and I." Fakir asked, his face flushed by his own request. He deeply bowed at the fat old bird.

"I'm slipping!" Duck cried, flailing her good arm.

"Errk!" He grasped both of Duck's legs just in time to keep her from sliding.

But her cloak peeled back over her head.

Turning red once again, Fakir sat her back down and looked away.

_Hmm, I believe you two still have a long way to go. But since this is what my daughter really wants, I suppose I'll give you my good will towards your marriage. _The fat old Gander honked.

"M-marriage– To Fakir?" Duck's face blanked out in mortification.

"Are you disgusted by that or something?...!" Fakir yelled at her, outraged by the perceived rejection.

_Well... I've had too much fun for one night. I'm back to searching for a wife for my nephew. But, ah, no loss. No loss at all. You two go enjoy your wedding night. _The fat old Gander honked, turning around and shaking his tail before leaving.

"...Wedding night?" Duck asked, confused.

Fakir sat meekly, steam rising from his malfunctioned brain.

"Huh? Where are we going?" Duck asked in wonderment. Fakir had stopped carrying her over his shoulder in favor of princess-carrying her. They were heading away from his house.

"I can't take you back to my house tonight, it would be too strange. Charon has no memories left of you as a girl." Fakir admitted.

"I... knew it." Duck chocked.

"So I'm taking you back to my dorm–"

"What-huh-NO WAY. That's even worse!" Duck interrupted.

"If you would just_ shut up_ and stop making so much noise, I could explain why." Fakir maintained. Duck limped her head in apology. "Sorry..."

"As it is currently, I have no dorm mate. After you recover, I want you to return to school to continue ballet and your education." He revealed.

"HUH?" Duck squeaked.

"I'm not going to just... just... keep you in my room for too long. That'd make me go..." Fakir stammered then quieted.

"...Go what?" Duck asked.

He ignored her.

"–And after you're done with your education! –We're going to have a more formal..."

He returned to his cumbersome silence.

"Can't you complete your sentences? It's hard to understand what you're trying to say." Duck explained.

"...Nevermind." He coughed.

Making their way up to his room undetected, Fakir spread her out on the bed and tended to her arm– bandaging it up and preparing it.

"This will hurt. So hold onto me." He warned her, climbing onto the bed.

Restraining her with his body, she grabbed his neck as he her forced her broken arm into the splint.

Duck opened her mouth to cry out from the pain, though before she could make a sound, Fakir covered it with his lips.

And kissed her deeply.

Pulling away after two minutes, he grabbed Duck's chin and gazed at her reddened, stupefied face in satisfaction.

"You listen to me. Don't be making anymore noise."

~The end...?~


	5. The After Afterstory

Long ago, there once was a tapestry that was woven from threads of moonlight.

Though on this tapestry were woven the many colors present between dawn and dusk– also woven on its face was a perfect record of the dark night sky and every star.

So perfect was the tapestry, that whenever it was shaken and dusted outside, the sun would grow tired and confused, instantly falling down to allow for the moon.

But the moon, still asleep itself, could no rouse itself to take its place in the sky.

Wearily, the moon began a habit to occasionally stay awake during the day in the event that the tapestry would appear and trick the sun.

Embarrassed and upset by the lack of sleep that the tapestry brought, the moon eventually ordered that tapestry be _resewn_ into an _unfashionable_ hat;

So that no one would ever want to take it outside

ever again.

* * *

The knight opened his eyes. Outside he could hear the noise of the academy's clock: its playful tune and the winding gears from its dancing figures, striking the hour.

"That dream. I remember that story." Fakir concluded as he rubbed his face.

The story was very familiar to the knight.

Yes, for he was the one who had wrote it when he was but a small boy.

"Such a stupid story. Unfashionable hat..." He scoffed.

Remembering the events of last night, he gently turned around to look at the one he fallen asleep next to– and so came face to face with a orange beak.

Falling off the bed in shock, the knight slowly climbed back up the side and looked again.

Duck was sound asleep, though she was practically now swimming in the cloak she had been clothed in throughout the night.

"What the." He demanded. Hadn't she been a girl just that past night? She had defied the curse and somehow regained her human form and everything.

...But of course she turned back into a duck in the end.

"This is always a problem." He complained, turning red-faced as he remembered the moments of pleasure he had felt from kissing her in the night.

Without much warning, though, Duck had innocently fallen right asleep on the knight– her heavy snoring making his caressing feel awkward.

Further making him feel too sheepish and chastened to do anything else.

He hung his head in shame.

"This is. The worst." He decided.

The academy's clock had finally decided to roll itself back up and end its call. He was supposed to already be on his way to class.

Now was not the time to go to class, though.

Halfway desperate, he took a pitcher of water and poured a steady spout of it over Duck's head. To the knight's dismay, nothing happened.

"Hey. Wake up." He prompted, pulling Duck out from the cloak– her splint falling off. He grumbled to himself as the little duck pulled her head in under her good wing and refused to listen.

"Stubborn little..." He accused, setting her back down in the folds of the blankets. Pacing back and forth, he tried his best to think of the next course of action.

_I need to observe her then. If her human form was temporary, then there's an equal chance of her duck form being temporary as well._

_And it's more than likely that something specific activates the transformation._

The knight closed his dark eyes and furrowed his thick brows in consideration.

Carefully stooping down to the bed, he stealthily crawled forward and placed a kiss on Duck's beak.

Nothing happened.

He pulled away. "It was worth a try." He rationalized, his eyes still closed. When he opened them again, he saw Duck fully awake– with a traumatized blue aura exuding from her sweating forehead.

"_**Are you still disgusted by me?...!**_" He raged, his voice reaching all the way down to the street outside.

From the sidewalk, a cat and his kittens looked up at the couple's window is disconcertion.

"Nya?~"

"Qua-qua QUACK QUACK QUACK QUACK!" _No– that's not it, how could you say that?...! _The duck danced on the bed, noisily flapping her wings.

Fakir grabbed her beak shut and shook his head in disapproval. "Be quiet! There's a good reason why I never brought you here as a duck!" He hushed.

"?" The duck silenced, her forehead still sweating.

He let go of her bill and silently crossed his arms.

"Half a year ago, a male student here was keeping a chicken in his room. One day when he left for after school club activities, he later came back to find his chicken gone... And in its place was a cheque left from the cook..." Fakir continued, closing his eyes as he remembered the tragic tale told to him from a still-devastated Autor.

"Quaa?" Duck asked silently, her head turned to the side in confusion.

Fakir sighed: "Never mind."

But after much consideration, the concept finally reached the little duck– causing her to quiver in realization.

"Quaaa!–" She squawked, then grabbed her own beak shut.

She stumbled around in inaudible pain.

"Quit moving your wing around." The knight scolded, grabbing her up and placing her back in the blanket.

"Fitting you with another splint would be useless. If you transform again, it'll be too tight." He continued, opening a drawer from the night stand.

He took out a bread roll and broke her off some digestible little crumbs.

"Quaaaack. Quacck." The duck silently grumbled as she pecked and ate. _Aren't you... late for class?_

"And aren't you suddenly a duck again?" He retorted, evading her interrogation.

_You don't have to be so snippy with me, Fakir. I'm just worried for you. _Duck quacked, narrowing her eyes at him.

"You can be ironic all you want, but it doesn't change the fact that I need to figure out a way to get you back to– the way you were last night." He advised, leaning over his desk and cracking open a book for research.

_But I thought you were fine with me as a duck._ She quavered, confused by his reasoning.

"That was... before I decided that it'd be more convenient for you to mostly be a girl!" He declared, closing the book, shoving it aside, and reaching for another.

_That's weird. Why would it be more convenient?_ Duck requested.

The knight flung his head around to face her and explain the obvious reason why.

But words failed him and left his face reddened instead.

"B...Because I said so." He proclaimed, going back to his reading.

_You're so perverted lately, Fakir. More so than usual. _Duck sputtered, preening a feather.

"W-what?...!" Fakir exploded, dropping his book in disbelief, "Who taught you that saying?...!"

–_Pike and Lillie. They said that to me whenever I was being grouchy just like you are now._ The little duck admitted, inching her feet inwards under her little belly.

Fakir sighed relief: "That's an outdated word. Don't use it anymore." He lied.

_What word? 'Pervert?' Really?... Well OK._ Duck clucked unwillingly.

"And this time you should definitely get some different friends. If I recall correctly, those two were nothing but trouble." He grumbled, selecting a new book.

The duck winced her eyes and grumbled. There he was!

Back to being his old, inconsiderate self!

But the knight had already wandered onto different worries.

_Compiled in my desk are at least 15 completely different, perfectly-detailed stories of Duck's transformation back into a girl... Why is it that the shortest story– the one I scribbled down during a boring lunch hour– is the only one that came true?_

_...Was it because she read it?_

He held his forehead in exasperation. _If only I had put more details into that story, I would know what was going on!_

_But the story... It's like I only got it started, and it just started telling itself– without any input from me!_

"I don't have any control!" Fakir complained.

_I don't think that's true– you're really controlling pretty much all of the time._ Duck pointed out.

A shirt landed from above and netted her.

"Qua...–quaquaqua!" She panicked, squirming beneath it.

She finally peeked her head out from under it and breathed in freedom.

"Do you actually _want_ to see me change?" He asked as she met his eyes.

"QUAAAAAAA!" She squeaked.

~The curse is only halfway broken? ...What awaits this strange couple when night falls?...~


	6. A Boy and his Duck

Outside jingled the academy's musical clock– the evening bell signaling the official closing of the classrooms.

Five sharp strikes from the bell tower bellowed through the air, vibrating the room's tall paned window.

_Hrmm. I've always wondered, but. –What kinds of things do you find in those books?_ Duck asked sleepily.

The two had squandered away their day in silence– The knight who occupied himself by cycling through a massive pile of books, and the little duck sitting on the bed to preen herself and daydream.

To the duck, it seemed as if their days were going back to exactly the way they were not long ago– a continuation of the day before yesterday.

Except now they could talk and this was the longest length of time she had spent with him in weeks.

To say the least, it was comfortable and pleasant to her. Just as it should be.

But a thick curtain of apprehension hung in the air between the two.

There were now unforeseen variables.

"You'd have to read them all to find out." Fakir replied ambiguously.

Duck closed her eyes and stretched her beak. He had probably already stopped looking things up about her. It appeared he was now busy writing another school paper.

"...I read in one story that the girl merely had to shed all her feathers to regain her human shape." He spoke suddenly, as if he had heard her concerns.

_That sounds very painful. It'd be like pulling out all your hair. _She mused aloud.

"There are far more painful things to part with." He retorted.

_Hmm..._ Duck mumbled, earnestly meditating on the knight's statement.

In truth he meant nothing by it and was only trying to keep her silent and busy.

Busy the thought did keep her, though. But by the time she had almost figured it out, the knight's stomach had let out a low growl.

She waited for him to say something, but he only kept on writing.

_Aren't you hungry? You should go get something to eat._ Duck fretted.

The knight stood up in response, slowly clearing off his desk. When he was done, he only looked out the window.

"You know what's weird?" He asked. The duck slowly shook her head in consternation.

After a score of silent, abrupt moments, a full spread meal materialized on top of the knight's desk.

"I can write about dishes! Bowls of salad, gravy boats– magically appearing on my desk– and the result is immediate." Fakir denounced, slamming his palms down on its surface. The plates jumped in response.

_That's... amazing... You're really good at writing!_ Duck encouraged uncertainly.

"It's the same as how it was when I was a child. The only stories that ever came true were the stupid ones." He reflected.

_Don't worry, once you eat, you'll feel much better about all of this. Everything will turn out fine._ The little duck persuaded cheerfully, already sensing the knight's darker mood. She knew that he had a bad temper whenever he was hungry.

Sullenly, the knight took her advice, sat down, and bit into a leg of meat. He continued to stare out the window in distraction.

Halfway in terror, the little duck watched him devour the roast turkey.

_That side of meat... is no bigger than me._ She gulped. If she didn't turn into a girl, she either had to go back to stay alone in Fakir's room or risk the consequences of staying in the dorm.

Fakir stood up and placed a plate full of lettuce and greens onto the bed before her.

"You should eat too." He advised.

Well into the task of gobbling up their food, a strong knocking sounded at the door.

_Who's that?_ Duck quacked.

"Be quiet." Fakir urged as her grabbed her up and stuffed her under the bed.

Sitting in the cold darkness, she turned her attention to Fakir's feet, which were stalking up to the door, unlatching it and pulling it open.

"You have her in here, don't you?" A familiar voice accused.

"It's only you?" Fakir asked, opening the door wider to let the student in. He immediately closed the door behind them and locked it.

"Duck, you can come out now." Fakir announced.

Cautiously, the little duck peeked out from under the bed.

The new person in the room was that studious, bespectacled boy who knew everything about Drosselmeyer.

"So Autor, what brings you here?" Fakir questioned.

Autor let out an arrogant chuckle and sat down. "Nothing that I want from either of you. I just came here out of the goodness of my heart to tell you that the school administration already knows about your little pet duck." He announced.

_Waaa?_ Duck spat.

"How can that be?" Fakir demanded, shaking Autor by the shoulders, "–Did you have anything to do with this?...!"

"Accusing me will get you no results. It's merely something I heard when I passed by the office to pick up a spare of today's work packet." Autor described, pulling a brown envelope out of his coat and shoving it at a startled Fakir.

"Your constant journeys off-campus at odd hours in the night... Combined with your absence today probably caused some curious ears to perch themselves at your door... They plan to search your room within the hour, so you'd best think of something." Autor advised, standing up to leave.

The knight stared down at the packet in disarray.

_I know this isn't the greatest time to say this... But I'm glad you have a friend now, Fakir._ Duck observed aloud.

"T...That's not true!" Fakir fumed in embarrassment, shaking the packet at her.

"...Curious you can understand her... Has something happened lately?" Autor asked.

"Never mind that, I'll tell you later. Get up Duck!" Fakir hurried, grabbing clothing out of the wardrobe.

"Planning on making a run for it? I figured you could just hide her better... Oh well. Be careful. " Autor finished, leaving out the door.

"Who's been bothering to watch me leave at night?" Fakir protested under his breath, stuffing the garments into the case.

_I don't know... But I think he's right, Fakir. If you just hide me better, it should be alright. _The little duck coaxed.

There was another knock at the door, causing both the duck and the knight to jump.

"-Hurry up, they're coming down the hall right now!" Autor's voiced hissed deeply behind the door.

"Damn it! Get under the bed again!" Fakir grabbed her.

_Isn't that too obvious? That's the first place they'll look! Stuff me into your bag and put me in the closet._ Duck pleaded.

There was another knock, one that was far different from the one before. Its harsh pounding was one that resounded of authority.

With no ideas, the knight followed exactly what the little duck said and stuffed her in the bag he had been packing– setting her down in the wardrobe and closing its heavy doors behind her.

"We're coming in!" A voice shouted outside, jiggling the latch with a master key.

Without much more provoking, the knight opened the door to the strangers.

"Is there a problem?" The knight asked, glaring at the two officials– a tall and goatlike woman from the admission's office and a badger-like man who served as a counselor.

"We have been requested to search your room for any unauthorized objects... or creatures. Pardon our intrusion." The badger-like man stated, busting the door open wider with a bounce from his belly.

The knight could only stand back and watch silently as the two stepped into the room uncertainly.

Just as Duck had said, the first thing they did was look under the bed– lounging on their stomachs to get a better look.

"Nothing here." The woman observed, sounding like she was bored and apt to leave.

"Hmm..." The man grumbled, looking around the room. He lifted up a serving tray as if to expect to find something beneath it.

As if to intentionally disrupt him, however, the academy's clock outside began its usual jingle– it's tones pulsating the air with six consecutive strikes.

To the knight's horror, something snapped and scraped inside the wardrobe.

The old man and the woman turned, eagerly honing it on it.

"I stacked things precariously in there– don't open both doors at the same time." The knight lied, holding his mouth in hand. Though he remained calm, his blackish green pupils shook in alarm.

Slowly the badgerly-man opened one side of the large wooden cabinet, shifting through the clothing.

Then he opened the other door.

In clear view was Duck, human again– and dressed up in Fakir's school uniform.

Her eyes were blank in fear– one of Fakir's casual shirts perched atop her head like a hat.

"A... another student?" The goat-like woman asked. The badger-like man stood back in agitation.

"Stand up! Give your name and class number." He blasted.

"Duck! And I don't go to school here yet, but I want to be in the ballet division." She confessed in her nervousness, bowing to the two teachers– the shirt still on her head. Fakir groaned and held his face in chagrin.

"Well then... This is very odd... But also very splendid! There aren't many boys in the ballet division." The lady remarked.

"Fine then. Since you two seem to know each other, senior Fakir will be your roommate and be in charge of showing you around while we get your classes in order.

"So then Duck, do you have a last name?"

"Q-uaack!" She cried, then covering her mouth out of habit.

"Duck Q'uaak... That is a very odd name... Best of luck to you then. Stop by the office before noon for your papers." The lady remarked, pulling a note pad and pen out of a pocket from her pink dress suit.

"Or else...!" The man threatened.

The door closed behind them.

_"Another male student for the ballet division? The principal will be pleased."_ They heard the badger-like man carrying on from beyond the door.

Fakir sank to his knees.

Duck glanced all around the room before asking: "What just happened?"

"I don't think I could've wrote anything more stupid than this." Fakir admitted.

"Wait. Did they think I was a boy?" Duck cried out, pointing to her face in cold sweat.

"I guess we have your unhuman appearances to thank for that... Not that turning into a human at that moment was any more convenient." He explained.

"Does that mean I'm a duck that turns into a girl but looks like a boy?" Duck sobbed, rolling up into a ball.

"...Calm down. It's the uniform. And that shirt you're wearing on your head." He pointed out.

Duck ignored him and blurted out her newest idea: "No worries then! Even if they didn't accept me as a girl, they did accept me as a student. If I just talk to them, I'm sure I can straighten this all out and they'll place me back in the girl's dormitory so I can be with Pike and Lillie a–"

"–No, this could actually be a good thing. It'll give us more time to figure things out." Fakir interjected.

Actually, he partly just wanted to keep her away from Pike and Lillie.

"Is that... so?" Duck asked aloud, looking up at the ceiling to consider it.

"Yes, it's better for you to stay close by me. Now get some sleep. We have to wake up before dawn in order to obtain something you'll need..." He said, taking out a piece of paper and scribbling down something very quickly...


	7. The Unfashionable Hat

"Wake up." The knight said, weighing his hand down on her side.

"Mmwa...?" Duck yawned, opening her mouth wide.

"I have a theory, so I need you to read this story." He spoke.

Duck opened her foggy eyes and focused intensely on the paper he held up to her face:

_Long ago, there was a tapestry that mirrored the night so perfectly that it tricked the sun whenever it was taken outside. _

_The moon, however, grew annoyed and jealous of the tapestry– so she ordered it resewn into an unfashionable hat._

_So unfashionable was the hat, that it was stuffed into a pile of rags and sat unused in the bottom of an old broom closet for many many years._

_Collecting dust, day after day, the hat would think to itself: _

_"I am certainly unfashionable now, but one day I know that I will be back in fashion. And one day I'll get to see the real sky again..."_

_Though the wait was long and lonely, eventually... That day came for the hat. _

_For a knight and a girl stumbled upon the hat, and found the hat so clever that the girl kept and wore it where ever she went. _

_And the hat never felt unneeded ever again._

Duck blinked. "Did you just write that?" She droned, rolling her face into a pillow.

"I did. Now let's go." He insisted, lifting her up by her waist. He sat up her up and posed her; after of which he then crawled under a table and brought out a new pair of shoes tiny enough to fit her feet.

"You slept in too long. Slip these on, we have to leave before the sun starts to rise." Fakir explained.

Wrapping a mantle tightly around Duck, Fakir then opened the window and stepped up onto its ledge.

"Give me you hand." He said.

"But Fakir! ... _That's the window_!" Duck hushed, quieting her voice.

"I know that! Don't worry, I tested it while you were asleep, and it's still here. Just a moment." He elaborated, carefully jumping over the window sill.

Duck cried out and looked over in alarm.

Fakir was hunched below the wall outside– feeling with his hands the translucent floor on which he sat.

"See? It's stable. Drop down carefully." He warned, standing up and lifting her over the sill cautiously.

She stood on the strange firm ground, awestruck as the knight led her by the hand.

"What is this?...!" Duck asked, observing the near-invisible stairs.

"It's a staircase." He replied.

"I meant, what is it made of?...! It feels kind of sticky." She observed, looking at the soles of her new shoes.

"If you _must_ know, it's made of sugar." He snapped, looking away from her self-conciously.

"Oh, really?...! Wow... That's kind of cute." Duck admitted. But that was the last thing he wanted to hear her say.

"Whatever. It's only because glass wouldn't work. The sun rises in three hours. It's more than likely that when that happens, you'll be just a duck again. And if I'm seen walking around with a duck, there'll will be even more problems." Fakir insisted.

"Right." Duck nodded, clinging tighter onto Fakir's hand.

The staircase led them all the way past the school's entrance and directly onto the street outside the dorms.

"A rain will come in three hours and wash those stairs away. If we're not back by then, we'll have to go by the entrance in broad daylight, and you'd better be a human then." He stated.

"We'll definitely make it... But... Where are we going?" Duck queried.

"We're going to visit my old town to find a certain hat. This hat is a very stubborn hat, and refuses to be found anywhere else– but in the closet of a deceased hatter." Fakir said, looking straight ahead in determination. They stopped at the edge of the street, where a cart was currently crossing the cobbled road.

"But Fakir... Are you ok with going back there?" Duck murmured, worried about his feelings over visiting his parent's place of death.

Silently, Fakir brought out a deep red rose from his hood; he held it in the air high above the street.

The man on the cart pulled back on his horses' reigns– shoving the cart to a halt.

"That flower! That's it! I've been searching far and wide for it. I need to bring it to my wife at any cost. What would you barter for such a flower?" The man asked hysterically, reaching out for the rose.

"We need a ride." The knight replied, holding it away from the man.

The knight talked to the man for a long moment before finally turning to Duck.

"Get in the back."

The cart was filled with boxes, jars, and vases– the many objects that the dedicated man was bringing back for his wife.

The two found a small space to sit, but it was uncomfortable. Seeing that the travelers were already in, the man started his horses.

Duck sighed in exhaustion and leaned against a box. "Fakir, did you write this?" She asked.

"I did. But I didn't expect it to come true. So far everything is going fine." He muttered, splaying out his legs.

"I see... Oh. I just remembered something," she yawned, her voice mumbling, "I'm supposed to be back at school by noon to pick up my class stuff."

"Don't worry about that. Come here." Fakir said.

Duck slowly turned her head around to look.

"I can't. There's no room." She confessed.

"Don't worry about that. I said come here." He urged.

"Where?" She winced.

"You're supposed to listen to everything I tell you to do, now come here!" He threatened, holding his arms out.

"There's nowhere to sit! Geesh." Duck cried out, inching only a little bit closer.

Impatiently he nabbed her and pinned her between his legs. "From now on, don't even think about what I tell you to do, and just do it." He demanded, lightly grasping her neck and propping her against his chest.

She felt her face burn hot, his hand sliding down to her stomach, holding her firm.

_It's that really... really weird feeling again! The feeling I felt whenever Mytho got close..._

_Only 100 times worse!_

–_It's just like the other night! I'll probably end up fainting again!_ Duck sweated, dizzily clenching her eyes shut.

"Don't think I'm being cruel... This is because you need me. Now go to sleep." He grumbled, resting his cheek on the back of her head.

She could feel his hair falling against her ear.

_Sometimes I can't tell if you're bullying me or just being overprotective. _

_Your love is very strange like that._

She drifted off to sleep.

This cart pulled to a stop. Duck opened her eyes. They were now parked in a cemetery– and even though it was too dark to see much, she could make out the lines of the small houses nearby.

She wiped her face.

"Fakir?" Duck asked. His only response was his repetitive breathing.

"You were tired too, huh?" She replied, turning around to face him. His eyes and mouth were shut.

"Lucky. Whenever I sleep, my mouth hangs open and I drool all over myself." Duck sighed.

Slightly worried, or maybe just a bit scared, she peered closer into his face to see if he truly was just sleeping.

Although faintly, he was definitely snoring.

Her face turned red.

_I really am a moron! Why am I getting all worked up?_

She shook her head wildly, but then looked back at him.

_But he looks..._

_really..._

She brought her lips closer to his.

And closed her eyes.

–"We're here!" The man shouted upfront.

The knight grumbled awake.

And the girl fell backwards.

"What are you doing, Duck?" Fakir asked in suspicion.

"I was just trying to wake you up–not that I was successful or anything–but then the man said we've arrived–and now we're both awake– so we'd better hurry!" Duck rushed sitting up, flailing her arms.

"No, what were you _really _doing just now?" Fakir ordered, trying to stop her.

"N-nothing!" She squeaked, falling out of the cart, landing on her head.

"Eeeeeee." She whimpered.

Fakir huffed. Her father was right; they really _did_ have a long way to go.

~The sun rises further in the sky, but the battle has yet to begin...~

(Author's note: This is the last chapter for about a week I think. Summer time hiatus, heck yay. Be back soon, the story is far from over!)


	8. The Ghost of the Hatter

Dark morning fog poured in, drowning out their vision. The knight and the girl stood beneath the side of the cart, looking up at the strange, obsessed man.

"We'll be back within the hour." Fakir assured, handing him the rose.

"Oh thank you, thank you very much." The man quaked, taking the rose in hand.

The knight turned back around and faced Duck.

"Is he really going to wait for us?" She asked.

"I believe so. If not, then who knows. We'll find out when the time comes."

They steadily walked up the dusty road of the cemetery– nearing closer and closer to the town's bare and worn houses.

Duck looked up at Fakir. Though the morning light was still thin and the fog deliberate– she could see the lump rising in his throat and the unsettling shadows in his eyes.

"There are still good memories here, right?" Duck asked suddenly, holding her hands up to her chin.

Fakir scoffed: "Whatever it is you're thinking, it's definitely not what I'm thinking. I'm not so weak."

But his arms were limp at his sides: saying otherwise.

The girl reached out for his hand to lead her once again.

The two made their way further into town. Both of them knew that people still lived here; light occasionally glowed from the surrounding windows, assuring them.

But there was no time to make any visits.

The silence was unsettling. The knight looked down at Duck, and noticed that she was stressfully staring down at her feet.

"...Long ago, there was an old man who made hats in his shop here. It was said that he was the best hatter in all the land. But one night..." Fakir started.

Duck looked up at him. "Was this a story you wrote?" She asked in interest.

"No. I would never write such a tragic story. But as it goes... There was an accident in his shop."

He whispered.

"W...what happened to him?" Duck shivered. She knew this was already turning into a ghost story, but her curiosity couldn't stop her from wanting to know more.

"That night, the hatter was very busy making a hat for the king to wear during his next party. But the king was very unpopular with his people at the time, so there were many plots out to kill him..." The knight told, leading her in front a collapsed barn that stood on the corner street.

He stopped them both to look at it longingly.

"So it was said... that the revolutionists who were plotting the king's death heard about the hatter's project. Scheming, they snuck into the hatter's house when he had dozed off, and set a bowl of gunpowder beneath the wheel of his spinner's weasel. Like clock-work, the yarn dipped into the bowl and was laced with the explosive. The revolutionists left– meaning to set the finished hat on fire later during the party." The knight uttered, leading her alongside the collapsed barn.

"But the revolutionist's plan had not foreseen what would happen when the machine would stop. Just as it had counted its last two clicks, the machine's breaks sparked, to 'pop' and alert the hatter that it was done measuring.

The workshop exploded. The next morning the hatter was found burnt up, with the wheel lodged inside of him... And that's the way the story goes." Fakir concluded, looking over at Duck.

She was shivering in terror, clinging to his arm tightly.

"T...th...that's terrible." She cried, her eyes watering.

"Don't worry. His ghost is still alive inside the workshop. He never really left." Fakir replied.

"That's even worse...!" Duck shouted.

"If you're scared, then you'd better hold onto me tightly."

They stood in front of a decrepit old house, the roof on the left side was caved in near the rickity chimney.

Fakir took the first step, Duck holding onto him like a lead brick.

The knight tried to open the front door.

"It's stuck... I guess the door frame collapsed in. Stand back." The knight said, stepping back.

He kicked the door in with a running jump.

Flinging open– the door creaked– dust rising off the shack's planked floor in little spirals.

A faint breeze whistled deep within.

"Is that someone crying?..." Duck wavered, hiding behind the knight.

"No, it's just the wind." He shot, pulling her inside the musty hallway. Cobwebs hung from the ceiling– leaves scattering about the ground from rotting wayward weeds.

They walked further in.

"It's probably in the broom closet. This way." Fakir breathed, meaning the hat. The house grew darker and darker as they went further in.

And the girl grew more afraid. Even the brave knight was trembling.

They reached a large room, with and overturned cast-iron pot in the center.

Old bottles of exotic dyes and mercuries littered the ground and nearby table. Moldy scrolls of paper sat abandoned on the table, as well as stuffed mannequin heads. The mannequin heads had many fabric pins and needles stuck through their eyes– casting unnatural shadows on the walls.

Placed awkwardly in the corner of the room, however, was a very tall door. The door was so tall, that it almost reached the ceiling. In fact, it was far too tall for the room.

Dark blue light poured in from the adjacent dirty, vine-covered window.

The knight paused before the door– somewhat hesitating. Duck stood behind him and clung to his waist, her eyes shut– her body quivering.

"Are you trembling?... Moron." He noticed, growing arrogant upon realizing how much she was clinging to him.

He bravely took the knob and pulled it open.

The door creaked to a stop–

an endless waltz of silence and wind soon following.

"Huh?" The girl finally asked. It seemed the knight had froze. When she looked up at him, his face was petrified, his eyes slowly draining of any life.

"F...Fakir?" She uttered, growing more chilled by the second.

When she looked in the closet, there was a strange green glow setting atop a bundle of old cloths.

"I-i-i-i-i-is th th this it?" Duck cried, letting go of Fakir and diving for the glowing bundle.

Cautiously, she found a lump in the center. Pulling off the cloth the lump revealed itself in the form of a rotted

human skull.

"KYAAAAAAAAA!" She screamed, dropping it on the ground; the force sent it rolling across the floor.

"Fakir! Fakir! Let's go!" She sobbed, grabbing him and shaking him. But he would not move, he had stopped as if his mind had instantly left him.

"You're seriously starting to creep me out! ...It's not funny anymore!" She pushed and pleaded, "...well actually it was never funny- but I was just being polite. Ooh, would you wake up?

One by one the mannequin heads fell over– a clashing and ringing noise resounding throughout the room and filling her ears.

"W-who's that? What's that noise coming from?...!" She shouted, quickly darting her head around.

She finally noticed them: An whole army of toy monkeys on the shelves– dressed in their blood red band uniforms. Their hairy arms pounded their tiny brass cymbals together, their bodies rocking back and forth– their beady black button eyes glistening.

Duck felt like passing out right then and there, but she knew she couldn't. Fakir had already lost it, so she had to be strong for the both of them.

"I'm not afraid of you!" She cried out, wincing her eyes.

"Ooooh? Not afraid of me? ...Shall we play a little game then? How far can you run from my needles?... Round and round we'll go!" An old man's voiced bellowed from the walls.

One by one the mannequin heads raised off the ground into mid air, slowly turning around to face where she and Fakir stood.

One by one the pins pulled themselves out of the mannequin's heads, their sharp points turning around to face them.

The needles blasted forth in a spray.

"Quaaa!" She screeched, tackling Fakir to the ground, needles rushing past overhead.

With all her strength she toppled the nearby table over for a shield. Dragging Fakir closer behind it she slowly looked up.

More needles shot at them, sticking out from the table like darts.

"This is bad! How are we going to get out of here?" She shook, looking around the room. That's when she noticed it– the wheel leaning against the far left wall, glowing ominously.

It was still faintly, but she could hear sobbing.

The will of the old man's ghost will still sobbing inside.

"That must be it... The hatter... When it killed him... He must still be stuck in there..." She whispered to herself.

"Stay right here, Fakir!" She gasped, lifting up his heavy sword and dragging it as fast as she could across the room.

"Done hiding? Now it's time for the chase! Finally, some fun to be had after all this time...!" The voice cackled, shooting out strings of thread from flying spindles.

"Erghh!" Duck groaned– the strings wrapping tighter around her legs, "Can't... move...!"

"That's right! Any tighter and you'll soon be joining my world... this lonely place! Some company at last..." His voice trailed off.

"I know... that's why... I'm going to free you...!" She gasped, not letting go of the sword.

The knight laid dormant, still lost in his dreams.

* * *

Just a child, wandering in through the window of the dark house, he crept in.

"Fakir! You're really going? Not scared of anything are you?" The voice of a far-off child taunted.

"That's right! I'm a brave knight, so I can do this." The little child asserted. Fakir, as he was, was just a child.

_This memory... when I was little..._

_So I've been here before..._

The knight's consciousness roused.

The little boy screamed, the house coming alive.

"Little boy! These games are too much for you to play! You'd best be on your way home!" The voice had laughed– the little boy screaming at the top of his lungs.

_Did the ghost let me go that time...?_

_What... it's different this time..._

_

* * *

_

The knight finally woke up, his face pushed against the ground.

"Kyaaaa!" Duck screamed.

"Duck!" Fakir snapped to attention, getting up to his feet. Stumbling out from behind the overturned table he saw her.

Threads were strung tightly around her limbs and body like little bands. A thread wrapped around her neck.

"Erghh..." She gasped in horror, the sword slipping from her hand.

"Duck!" He hurried, ripping at the harmful threads. The ghost's laughter haunted all corners of the room

"You monster, come out and fight me!" Fakir leapt in rage, readying his sword at whatever invisible foe was there.

"I remember you... You've come back to me, little one? How kind, how very kind. You can join me here– you'd make a fine apprentice!" The ghost's old voice remarked, "Though you'll have to be dead first... mwahahaha...!"

The needles and pins pulled themselves out of the overturned table. Spinning around, this time they pointed at Fakir.

"Look... out!" Duck gasped. Turning around, sword in air, Fakir blocked the spray– parrying it away with a vertical deflect.

The mannequin heads swirled through, pelting themselves at the knight.

Slashing several clear in half– he threw back his left leg, slicing a line of them with one swift, arabesque turn.

"Fakir...! The wheel..." Duck breathed, still struggling. He hurried to face her.

"Against the wall... Break it!" She whispered.

The knight dashed across the room with a single leap. Sword raised high above his head he thrust the blade down upon the wheel.

Cleaving it clear in half.

Toy monkeys toppling over, the ringing and clashing stopped. Duck's thread's loosened and fell.

Mannequin heads collapsed down upon the ground.

And the green glowing room darkened.

A faint trail of light drifted up from the wheel, twirling about towards the ceiling– a spirit that was finally free.

"May you rest in peace." Duck prayed. Slowly she began dusting herself off and pulling threads from her legs and arms.

"Duck, are you hurt?" Fakir shot, sheathing his sword and rushing over to her side.

"Mh, I'm good. I was mostly worried about you– 'Cause you'd be the last person that'd I'd expect to faint." She admitted.

The knight's face turned red in embarrassment, "I did not faint...! The ghost did something to me..."

"Mmm-hmm. Well ok! ...So where's that hat?" Duck asked, ignoring his excuses.

"Gah..." Fakir grumbled, turning away, still reddened in shame.

With even more caution, Duck went back into the closet, lifting up the final bundle of rags.

"Ahh... there it is..." She awed, picking up the strange hat. It was tall and steepled– the fabric faded from a red peach to a deep indigo. The stars on it were shining like the real sky. It's brim was large, but not too wide.

"It kind of reminds me of a wizard's hat." Duck exclaimed, dusting it off.

Slowly the knight came and took it from her hands, turning it over.

"So it really does exist after all..." He remarked.

For all this time the hat had been here. Ever since he was a child and wrote the story about it.

"Fakir... I think it's getting a bit too late." Duck clamored, wiping the dusty old window with her pajama sleeve.

"Huh..." She asked dazedly. There was a sound of flapping cloth.

Fakir turned to look at her, but found a pile of clothes.

"Aagh... Damn it." He scoffed, picking up the pajama pants and shaking the little duckling out.

A pair of white panties drifted out. Cringing, Fakir dropped the clothing and turned around quickly, reddened once again.

"Quack, quack, quack quack!" _Hey! Give me the hat! _Duck jumped around.

"Here, take it!" He blasted, turning around and throwing the hat at her– it landed on top of her.

The duck poofed back into a girl.

"Qua- Fakir, it works! The hat is a success!" Duck blurted out, giving him a thumbs up. She wore nothing but the hat on her head.

"I...idiot!" He spat, hiding his heated face with his hand. He threw his coat onto her as quickly as possible.

"You're a girl, so be more aware of your body!" He yelled angrily.

She squawked and grabbed the coat tighter.

~To be continued...~


	9. The Rose Spell

_Once upon a time there was a man who loved his young wife dearly. _

_Every single day the man would bring his wife a gift to marvel at._

_Though these gifts were neither expensive nor beautiful, she would always joyously exclaim in their sight: "I'm so happy I could die!"_

_The man was always pleased with his wife's excitement and praises. _

_But one day, the man's wife fell deathly ill._

_Concerned that she really would die and leave him, he would not bring her any more marvels._

_"I will die soon. Right before that time, you will know," she said one day, pulling him to her side, "and though you have shown me much and made my life wondrous, I selfishly ask you show me a few last things so I may satisfy my earthly curiosities."_

_Though her list was odd and the items large, the man gathered all– except for just one last thing..._

_A flower as red as the blood it could draw._

* * *

"The sun isn't tricked by the tapestry into setting anymore?" Duck asked, adjusting the brim of her new hat. "Must be because it's just a hat now..."

"I don't know," the knight said. "I intended to use the hat to bring about a permanent state of night– to keep you as a girl always. But if it works in a different way, fine. The only thing that matters is that it serves our purpose."

"Wait. You were going to mess up time, nature, and everything– just for me?!"

The knight huffed and walked ahead. "Have a problem with that?" he asked.

Duck held her face, unsure of how to feel about all this. "What a scary guy..."

Though the sun was already on the rise, and they were surely behind in time due to their battle, the two hurried to their awaiting cart in the graveyard. Since the girl was stumbling on the path, the knight grabbed her hand and kept her walking straight.

"Is that hat heavy or something?" Fakir snapped. "You act like you have lead for brains now."

"Hey! I'm still getting used to it, ok?!" Duck asserted. "Qua... It kind of blocks out my vision, but I'm doing just fine! There's nothing wrong with my head!" _But still, _she thought;_ I am glad that he didn't say something meaner: like that I've always have lead for brains so now this thing is just extra baggage for my dumpy head! Hn. It's sort of true, but I just don't like hearing it!_

Arriving at the cart, the knight lifted her up into it and stood behind. "You stay right there," he said. "I'll tell the driver we're back." He walked away and Duck grumbled to herself.

"He's still treating me just like a pet duck," the girl said, crossing her arms and staring sternly at the cart's wooden floorboard. "But it IS thanks to him that I can be a girl again," she considered aloud, squishing up her face between the palms of her hands– just like how Lillie used to do. "That's right... He said Pike and Lillie were nothing but trouble... but they were the first people to be my friends! How could he say such bad things about them to my face?" She clenched her teeth, stewing in her resentful but dually and confusingly affectionate thoughts– as girls often do. "But still. Fakir was the first and only to ever..." Her face went red as she remembered each and every peck and kiss he gave her. And she sat like that, even as the knight met the driver.

_Why do I keep getting this bad feeling?_ the knight thought;_ Is it apprehension?_

Though the driver's back was turned to the knight, the driver's voice was quiet but clear: "I need to hurry to my wife right away."

"What? Why?" Fakir asked, thinking how the driver was acting very strange and not at all like how he'd written him.

"I can feel it," the man said. "I know. She can't hang on any longer... I need to bring this cart to her or everything I've done will be for–" The man ceased speaking.

"What are you talking about?" Fakir demanded, grabbing hold of the cart's side, his brow sweating in consternation. _This was a story I wrote!_ he thought;_ The man was just bringing gifts to his wife– not his dying wife– I didn't write this!_

"She will die soon. She is dying. Maybe even as we speak," the man said, his head hung low. "Please let me go to her for the time being. I will make it up to you. I will let you use my cart whenever if you do. Please."

Fakir looked up at the man in bewilderment. "Fine, take us there right away," he said, rushing to the cart's back to join Duck.

"Fakir, what's the matter?' Duck asked, noticing the his distracted eyes.

"Something I didn't write," Fakir muttered. "Is this my fault?" He sat down against a crate, holding his troubled forehead.

"Fakir," Duck said, sitting up closer to him. "What's wrong?"

"What's wrong? What's WRONG?" he reiterated and raged, the cart jolting forward and pulling them off into the forest. "My stories are writing themselves!" That's what was wrong.

"What?" Duck yelped. And so the knight proceeded to explain everything to her, the cart traveling a fair distance before he finished divulging every important detail.

"And all this arose from a simple story I wrote to convenience us," Fakir concluded. "Just a paragraph..."

"Then... then." Duck paused before pleading: "Can't we fix it somehow? Can't YOU fix it somehow? Since you're the writer, I mean."

"Yes, I want to try that..." Fakir said, taking out a booklet and marking pencil. "I need to try it."

Their ride jolted abruptly. "But this cart is so bumpy," Duck cried, rubbing the rump of her leg. "It'll be hard to write until we stop, huh? But we need to help her somehow!

"Of course. I'll need to think some more," Fakir muttered to himself, clumsily writing through the cart's rocking. "And maybe write the story's exposition as it had turned out so far in order to link it to a planned second part of the story..."

"Un... ok..." Duck sat, her head lowered and not quite sure what she could even do. "Bringing back all this stuff for his wife... but no medicine to cure her? It must be a pretty hopeless case," Duck remarked to herself aloud, lifting up the cover of a crate. "Geh!" She stopped, her face turning blue. In the crate, she had seen the dried carcass of some kind of monster with horns. Closing the cover, she began noisily but needlessly blathering from shock.

"Bringing her a cure..." Fakir thought aloud– looking up at Duck in consideration– his eyes meeting her dumbfounded, petrified face. "What's wrong with you now?" He snapped.

"N-nothing!" Duck held up her hands, her mouth stretched wide and her eyes glassy and unfocused.

"Such a moronic expression," he huffed, focusing back on his work. "I thought you were being serious for once. If you don't have anything to contribute, you should just shut up."

"So... so mean!" Duck threw herself to the floorboard and sobbed in an out-of-control manner.

The knight grumbled, trying to ignore the guilt he always felt when he scolded her so harshly._ So noisy! _he thought moodily;_ But she had a point a few moments back_._ If it could be written that there was a cure for the driver's wife, then..._

Daylight was on the horizon and morning classes at the academy had already started, but they– the knight, the girl, and the driver– were just then pulling up to the man's small and humble cottage on the outskirts of the old town. When they stopped, the driver abandoned them, his horses, and his cart, and ran into his house.

"If his wife is still alive," Fakir said, continuing to write as he leapt from the cart, "then something can be worked out."

Duck scrambled out of the cart after him, and following him inside the house, she found that the curtains were drawn and the lights were low. Before them, a pale woman with long blonde hair sat unmoving in the room's only bed.

"Ilona... I'm here," the man said, grabbing her hand. "I brought you all the things to see."

"That's... wonderful," she said quietly, her voice sounding as if it could drown out at any moment. "And most importantly, you're here now... Thank you..."

"And I found the one last thing," he continued, presenting the rose to her.

"Yes, that's it. It's exactly it!" she cried, taking it from his hand.

"Be careful!"

He reached for her, but she had already cut herself on its thorny stem.

"Your hand," the man gasped, her blood trailing and dripping onto the sheets.

Fakir's hand was moving across his paper as the events unfolded– Duck could only look on uneasily.

_Is he writing this as it's happening? _Duck wondered, trembling;_ What is he planning to do?_ _Is he even in control of what he's writing right now?_

"If it's like this, then it can only help me now," Ilona rambled deliriously, reaching to the top of the rose, and putting her hands around the rose's bloom. "It took what it wanted, so– I think it could understand what I wanted now..."

"What are you talking about?" the man said, gripping her shoulders in concern. "What are you doing?"

The woman ripped the bloom straight from the stem and the man beheld the actions of his wife in shock. She had decapitated the final gift he had desperately gathered for her. But if this was what she wanted in her last moments, he could not complain, for surely her mind was already beginning to leave her. He began to sob in grief and so cradled her head in his arms.

"Rose... thank you," Ilona said, stuffing the rose hip and petals into her mouth as if it were a delicacy. She consumed the bloom whole and the man stopped to watch. Suddenly, the color returned to her pale cheeks and the sparkle of health returned to her eyes.

"Ilona. What is..."

"You gathered everything. Everything needed to complete the spell," she said; "I always hid it from you, but now I must tell you the truth. I am not a human woman. I am an earth spirit who was about to return to the earth's heart. But now, I am bound here to you for as long as you will have me."

"To thank the rose for its finishing touch, take this stem outside and place it in the ground outside our threshold. Every day I promise to water it with a drop of my blood– so long as it provides me the delicious blooms that holds me in the human world."

"Yes, my dear," the man said dazedly, taking her confession in a surprising amount of stride.

"Wah? Wah!" Duck cried in disbelief, waddling after the man as he went outside.

He placed the stem firmly in the ground and covered it with dirt– and slowly– the stem began to twist and grow. Before their eyes, it developed into a gorgeous rose bush with full buds awaiting to bloom.

"And so the woman kept her promise to the rose everyday, until she was old and gray and willing to leave the world alongside her husband," Fakir said, closing his booklet in one hand and holding the horse reign with the other. He and Duck had already traveled a long ways on the horse the man had lent them.

"You really wrote all that, huh?" Duck marveled, then sighed: "But what an obligation to keep just to stay alive. Though I suppose it's way better than just dying..."

"Is it, though?" Fakir asked, not sure whether he had blessed or cursed the couple. "I guess all that matters is that they're happy together." He could only hope that the woman, or earth spirit, had already been dying and that she had merely been dragged into his story. _When I write of people, everything about their life doesn't just spontaneously occur, does it?_ he wondered. _I still don't understand the extent of my storytelling's power. But I wonder if HE didn't either... That man who wrote Duck's story– and my story. Drosselmeyer._

"You saved her, and that's all that counts," Duck cheered, throwing her arms up over her head. "You made sure that they live a long life together, too. Crisis averted!"

Fakir had to reach out and grab her to keep her from falling off the horse. "You... you're way too easygoing right now," he scolded lightly, considering what had _almost_ happened. "You do realize that we have only a few minutes to get you to the administration office as promised, right? And you're still dressed in my night clothes."

Duck looked down and pulled at the pajamas. "Qua... QUAAACK!" she blurted in realization.

~A couple facing their first years together can only surmise the years ahead of them...~

* * *

April 8, 2013: Since my writing style has REALLY improved over the past few years, I'm going back and editing this story– starting here. Seriously. All the derpy wording and stuff makes me lol and smack myself. Don't worry though, I won't delete anything important. I'm just adding and modifying so it all makes_ much more_ sense.


	10. Dance of the Duck-Girl-Boy

By horse the knight and girl traveled down the stone-laid street towards Gold Crown Academy and its grand buildings dedicated to the arts.

Clinging onto her hat, Duck gazed up at the loud clock tower in the center of it all– tolling the afternoon in with its heavy striking and alerting them of their tardiness.

"You have no time to change into a school uniform," Fakir said, the dullness of his voice hinting that although he found it unfortunate, he didn't think it mattered much.

"What! But I'm still in pajamas!" Duck agonized. "And to go into the office this way... So embarrassing."

"It's not that bad. You are a 'beginner' student, so let them expect as much."

"And all this time I thought it was a bad thing to go outside looking undressed."

"Whatever." Fakir tugged the reigns. "You should've woken up earlier and changed. If you have the time to cry and complain, then you have the time to get yourself mentally prepared. Don't forget that you're now a boy who decided to take ballet. Wrap your cloak tightly around you, and if you're enthusiastic enough, they'll forget all about your appearance."

"Fine fine, I know..." Duck huffed, making sure her hat was on tightly. Why did she have to pretend she was a boy, again? It was too early in the morning to remember why. She looked back at the looming dorms behind her. Sure enough a heavy rain had poured down earlier; the ground all around was wet and riddled with puddles, and a thin bridge of sugar laid collapsed on the ground. It was all that was left of the magical staircase. "It sure melted easily," she said to herself.

"Hey. Tuck your braid into your hat," Fakir commanded, ignoring her observation.

"Like this?" she asked, doing as he had said.

"Yes. Now your hair looks more boyish. You're really weird for a girl, so you'll do fine."

"Oh okay... Though..." She curled up her lip. "What's that even supposed to mean, huh?"

Dismounting the horse, they left it tied to a fence. Hurrying across the far-off bridge to the academy, Duck sped behind Fakir, tugging her hat down firmly against her skull in her paranoia of being discovered.

The dark hallway beyond the school entrance's french-doors sat silent.

No one stirred, as every student was busy in class.

"The main office is this way. Come on," Fakir said, grabbing a distracted Duck's arm and tugging her away.

For quite some time the girl had been away from the academy. So much so, that the awe-inspiring structure of its interior stole away all her attention– just as if it were all new. _I feel so happy,_ she thought wistfully;_ I was so sure that I was happy being just a duck on the lake. But now that I'm back here, I feel so glad, I could cry. I really missed this place. I want to meet Pike and Lillie again._ She leaned forward and gazed up at Fakir– who's face was determined as always– his dark eyebrows furrowed in that vexed way which she often found somewhat endearing.

_Does this mean... that I'll be in some classes with Fakir? By his side?_ Duck pondered. She remembered all the times he pulled Mytho close by his side and kept a careful watch of him. She felt her face blush. _Would I look just as mysterious as they did then? But somehow that also seems a bit scary. Fakir is kind of scary... But I know I like being with him, and he's not bad at all. Well, he's kind of demanding, but he's not like how I used to think he was..._

Fakir marched her further down the hall and pulled her to the right, stopping and holding her carefully when they came to a large round, wooden door. "Try not to say too much," he told her, releasing her and taking on a more distant air.

Duck gulped. "Ok," she said in renewed determination. "Let's do this."

Walking in, the two of them spied a heavy counter attended by a horse-like woman. "Hello. What brings you two here for?" she asked gently.

"S...He's... a new student here," Fakir stuttered.

Duck flinched in terror at his near slip-up. _And you told ME to be mentally prepared!_ she thought rebukingly. "Hi– hello, nice to meet you– how do you do?" she took the initiative and began; "I'm here to start my classes please! They told me to be here at noon so here I am now– yep– and I didn't want to be late so I hurried outside, as soon as I woke up, and I wandered a bit before then, which is why I'm here, in this state, eheheh... I hope to start right away!" She bowed her head, accidentally smacking it into on the counter. "Qua-ow ow ow..." she quietly mumbled to herself.

Fakir and the woman glared at her uncertainly, and for their own uncertain reasons.

"You're quite noisy this morning– and late!" an elderly voice let out. Out from behind a nearby door popped the badger-like man. "And not even dressed properly." He shook his head in a berating manner.

"So-so-so sorry!" Duck quacked, apologizing sincerely and thoroughly. "I won't mess up again!"

"Well it's good to see that you have some humility about it. Kids these days don't understand the feeling of shame," he complained, taking out a folder and handing it to Duck.

"Wow..." she sighed in awe, staring at the academy's crown emblem and name gold-etched on the folder's front; "It looks so official." She wasn't exactly sure what official meant, but if it meant anything, this was it.

"So surprised about it. Just like a little child," Fakir chided, turning away. In actuality, he couldn't bear to face her adorable reaction.

Before Duck could sass him back, she was led away to a shelf behind the counter.

"And here's your school and ballet uniform," the badger-like man exclaimed, pulling out a small boy's uniform. Then, from another shelf, he pulled out black tights, fitted pants, and a blue shirt. He handed them to Duck before turning to Fakir. "As his Senior, Fakir, you'll be in charge of showing Duck around. Take good care of him," the man said solemnly, already heading back to his office. "Now hurry along to class."

Back and forth, Duck stretched the legs of the fitted pants in amazement. "Ahhh..." She breathed. "They're so stretchy! But then again, I guess they were always this stretchy... Yours must be stretchy, too."

"Come on," Fakir muttered, pushing her out the door. She unwillingly walked forward– still too busy marveling over the new uniform. They hurried outside the school and around the corner– walking for some time until they arrived in front of the outside door of the boy's locker room. "Stay put, I'll be right back," he told her, opening the door and going in.

"Why's he going in there? ...Oh yeah, we need to go to ballet right now." She realized, looking around. _Wait... will I have to start changing in there from now on?...! _

She panicked. The door opened back up.

"All clear," Fakir told her, signaling her to come in.

"But I can't go in there, not as I am now!" She flailed her arms.

"Get in here!" he demanded, pulling her past the threshold. She heard the door click behind them– and stumbling in– she beheld the familiar small yellow lockers– with their strange circular vents– and oddly enough began to crave bread.

"Let me see your folder," Fakir said. Duck handed it over and he opened it up. "You were assigned over here," he said after a moment of reading, leading her to a bench in front a row of corner lockers. Leaving her, he went over to his own and went about as usual. Duck, though, merely stood and gazed at the block of lockers in uncertainty and confusion.

"Go on. The door is locked," Fakir urged. "No one will see you." He made sure to face away from her as he took off his jacket; still, he didn't hear her move at all and this greatly infuriated him. "You... listen! If you don't hurry up, I'll finish first and then I'll have to watch you!"

Duck quacked in terror, tore off her clothes, and slipped into her shirt and bottoms at lightning speed. "There, done," she sighed in relief, only to be answered by still silence. "Huh?" Turning around in concern, she witnessed Fakir all the way on the other side of the room– pulling up his pants. "What are you doing all the way over there _for_?!" she yelled frenziedly, feeling that it was all his fault for showing her such a scene.

"Most people move around when they change," he argued, his face scowling in embarrassment. He tied his belt.

"Aren't you even worried about me seeing you?" She huffed, baffled.

"What's the big deal, it's not like I'm a girl or something. Then it'd actually _be_ a problem."

"That doesn't make any sense." Duck winced her eyes in frustration. "Why's it only a big deal if a boy sees a girl? And not the other way around?" _Human values are strange,_ she added in thought._  
_

"Idiot. Because girls are different from guys. Guys have to worry about certain things," he quickly reasoned aloud and turned away– his face already starting to heat up.

"Things?" Duck repeated. "What kinds of things?"

"Would you just be quiet? Stop asking so many useless questions!"

"It's not useless at all, I should be allowed to know about these things if I'm supposed to be a boy," she concluded. Of course he would have to tell her everything now. Her reasoning made perfect sense.

"...You know where the classroom is," he stated, unbolting and letting himself out the door– effectively leaving her behind.

"H... hey!" she cried, running after him. "Don't leave me alone in this place! And why won't you tell me? You meanie!"

~All is unfair in this world for a duck; if she can't succeed at ballet as a girl, can she as a boy?~


	11. Classroom Adagio

Silently, Fakir put his hand on the ballet classroom's door handle. Pausing, he turned to Duck. "As I told you earlier, try not to say too much," he said. "But when you do, use your lowest voice. And keep your hat on no matter what."

Duck nodded her head carefully and thought to herself: _I guess there's nothing I can say at this point. I wonder if I can really pull off acting like a boy, though. But... Won't I have to be like this until I graduate? I didn't even think about the long term consequence!_

The door swept open and the brightness of the classroom flooded into the dark hallway. Duck could see the familiar backs of her classmates once again– their bodies hunched and sitting down on the classroom ground, all dressed in their leotards and tights. She could be near them once again. Her eyes widened when she noticed the back of Lillie's blonde puffy pigtails and Pike's tightly bound pink bun. Duck's eyes brimmed with tears at this and a glad smile pulled across her face.

Fakir noticed this and stood in front of her to shield her emotional display. "Are you crying?" he asked perturbed, glancing back sideways.

"No-no. I'm just happy," Duck squeaked. She then covered her mouth and spoke in a deeper, but childish voice: "I mean, I'm glad to see everyone again."

"Pfft... you sound like an 8-year-old boy," he remarked, stifling his laughter.

Duck frowned at him. "Well at least that's something...!"

By now the classroom had already begun to notice Duck and murmured in curiosity. Even Pike and Lillie observed her.

"Hey, doesn't that kid look familiar?" Pike whispered, turning to Lillie.

"Mm, not really. But he looks so defenseless. Fresh meat!" Lillie sighed happily.

Though Duck could not hear them, she beamed in happiness.

"Oh, it seems the new student turned up for today after all! How nice, come over here and introduce yourself to the class!" the teacher greeted. She was a lightweight-looking young woman with an honest face and brown ponytail. The old teacher, Mr. Cat, had long since been forgotten.

Duck clenched her firsts to her chest in nervousness and looked down, carefully thinking to herself: _Do I respond? Fakir told me not to talk too much, didn't I talk too much already? I did talk too much, I used up my talkability as soon as I saw the whole class, errgh! Hey. Is talkability even a word? I wonder...  
_

"Sorry. He's a bit shy," Fakir said, placing his hand on Duck's shoulder. "His name is Duck– an old family friend and now a beginning First Year student."

The class murmured loudly in increased awe.

"Um... Fakir. Counting back, I'm actually a Third Year now," Duck whispered to him.

"Only in physical age." He pushed down on her shoulder to hush her up. "Clearly not mental..."

Duck puffed out her cheeks in annoyance: _I... I know I'm bad at school! _she thought;_ But you don't have to be so rude about it!_

"I hope you can open up to us in the future then, Duck," the honest-faced teacher said. "Please sit down and join the class."

Awkwardly, Duck took her first step towards them and stopped in indecision. Walking ahead of her, though, Fakir sat down outside the group by the wall. Placing his hand on the ground beside him, he glanced up at Duck expectantly.

Duck gulped and clenched her fists to her side. _I guess he does want me to sit next to him all the time_, she thought, remembering well how he once guarded Mytho is such a way. _But that makes perfect sense. If I'm found out, as either a duck or a girl, I could get in a lot of trouble! _Still a bit wobbly-kneed, she stalked over and plunked down beside him. She stared at him, unable to concentrate on the teacher's words.

"-if you always turned your legs this way when pulling in, it's the easiest way to avoid injury when bending–" the teacher rambled on.

Dazing off, Duck looked at the back of Pike and Lillie's heads. Every now and then they turned to each other to say something or giggle. Lillie put her hand over her mouth and mischievously squinted her eyes as Pike whispered something in her ear.

Duck gazed thoughtfully at them. _Wow... Is that how the three of us used to look together?_ she wondered;_ We hardly ever paid attention to Mr. Cat back then. And... Yeah. Fakir and Mytho were usually behind us or off to the side, right in this spot even... maybe. Out of vision. Just like how we are now. I wonder... if Fakir and Mytho ever saw us goofing off like that... _Duck beheld them in wide-eyed thought.

Fakir, however, looked at Duck in concern. He could already tell that she was pining to be with her old friends. _Those troublemakers..._ Fakir thought to himself in annoyance; _Those two were the reason Duck never did well in class._

"–All rise, it's time for warm-ups," the teacher said in a surprisingly strong voice.

"Wha–" Duck snapped out of it and looked about. Everyone in class was already standing and walking off.

Fakir was also up and stretching his arms. "Come on you. Aren't you the one that likes ballet?" he instigated.

"Huh, but Fakir–" Duck stopped, remembering to lower her voice: "–don't you like ballet too?"

"It's fine. As long as someone important to me likes it."

Duck gazed at him intently. _Oh... Mytho liked to dance, so you wanted to dance too,_ she thought._ It's like that, wasn't it? But when he left, why did you continue? Was it because of...  
_

"Oh my, you're so cute!" a girl shrieked, grabbing up Duck in a backwards choke lock.

Looking up hopefully, Duck smiled in relief when she found Lillie. Yes, she smiled– even though the girl was squeezing all the precious air out of her chest and turning her face blue.

"I know now! He reminds me of a cute little brother!" Pike said, smiling into Duck's blue face. "Will you call me big sister?"

"He's getting embarrassed, it's so cute!" Lillie cried, squeezing Duck tighter.

_What...?_ Duck thought, freezing at this. All the girls began herding around Duck, poking at her and remarking how cute she was.

"Ah, stop it. He looks young, but he's still about... 12 or so," Pike said, counting on her fingers. "Treat him with some respect already." She intervened, standing beside Duck as Lillie forcefully let go.

_No no way! I'm not 12, I'm already 14! I can't believe this! _Duck thought tearfully._ I don't want to be seen as some hopeless little duck. I have to do something!_

"N-n-nice to meet you," Duck managed out, glancing at everyone and bowing. She had to make a mature impression so she could at least earn a little respect! _They really don't recognize me, _she thought;_ They don't remember me at all. Just like how Fakir says Charon doesn't remember me... Everyone forgot the tale we were once living in. Gold Crown Town..._

"I'm Pike and this is Lillie," the girl introduced, patting a glad Lillie's shoulder.

All the girls introduced themselves to Duck willingly, and all at once in an extremely overwhelming manner.

From the back corners of the classroom, however, the grumbling of the few other boys surfaced:

_"...What's so great about him?" _

_"He looks like a baby, so what."_

_"Yeah, is he honestly in junior high yet?"_

_"Maybe he skipped some grades."_

_"He doesn't look that smart, though."_

_"Yeah, huh?"_

_"What's up with that weird hat?"_

In consuming anger, Fakir flashed a cruel glare at the group of girls and they scattered apart just long enough for him to grab Duck away. "Visiting time is over. It's time for practicing," he told her loudly, just so that the others could overhear.

"Why do they think I'm a kid," Duck murmured in disappointment. _I wanted to look cool and mature like Fakir... _she thought pensively;_ Not like a 'cute little brother'!_

"It's because you have a high voice and a round 'baby' face. That's why you look like a little boy to them," he said. "Don't be so surprised about it. At least you're not suspicious."

"Oh..." Duck's shoulders sank. _Acting like this for the rest of my school life is really going to be the worst, huh? _she thought with deep-seated solemness. _And it doesn't really seem to bother Fakir– seeing me as a boy and all. What if he stops seeing me as a girl again? Maybe he just doesn't care... how I feel..._

Sensing her downtrodden mood, Fakir swung Duck around by the arm to distract her and caught her. Pulling her back straight to his chest, he held her up on her tip-toes and stretched her in relevé. "That means I'm the only one who sees you as a girl," he whispered closely in her ear, chasing away all her doubts. _I don't mind at all,_ he thought,_ because... I want no one else to look at her as I do.  
_

_What!_ Duck's face reddened.

He raised her arms up into the air gracefully and held them there. One hand above the other– her wrists limp in his and he guided her. She almost felt like a puppet or doll in his control, but somehow, she didn't seem to mind.

_Huh... _Duck thought as she stared into the long wall mirror and saw him holding her. _I'm... standing so beautifully. It's like I'm Princess Tutu again._

The knight smiled for a brief second at her sense of wonder, but then he resumed his previously harsh expression. "Your second position is horrible!" he scolded. "Pull your feet further out."

"Wha! Like this?...!" Duck scrambled to assume position.

"I said second position, not 'bow-legged'!"

"I'm... I'm so sorry!"

"Hold you stomach in, straighten your spine– you're not a frog!"

"Ok! Like this?"

All through class the knight worked the poor girl into a better student, and when it was time to change and go to class, Fakir left Duck outside the boy's locker room while he retrieved her things.

"There's enough time to go back to our room and change. Let's hurry," he told her.

"Right," she answered, the two of them running off.

However, lurking from the shadows, two familiar figures watched. "That new boy is too suspicious, don't you think?" one whispered.

"Yeah. I've never seen Fakir so close with another guy... er, I think... Ah, never mind. Let's go and see what those two are up to..."

~Two strangers are watching a duck and a knight closely... Could they be recollecting a piece of their dream?~


	12. The Mysterious Memory Club

"–What are you talking about? Just put yourselves at the door and listen in! I'll be waiting right here, so you'd better get some good tidbits!" Pike threatened, shaking the boy by the collar of his jacket.

"O-okay. Yes ma'am, will do!" he whimpered as she let go. Dropping to his hands and knees he rose and ran off.

"Oh my, you've gotten so brutish lately," Lillie said, fawning over the other girl. "I love it!"

"If the boy's dorm wasn't so heavily guarded, I'd do it myself..." Pike sighed, shaking her head in resignation– her pink hair bun bobbing from side to side.

"But all this sneaking around," Lillie chirped. "I still don't quite understand what you and the King are up to."

Pike turned her back on the girl and eyed the nearby dormitory. "This past year, haven't you felt it?" she asked, the breeze ruffling her uniform's bolero. "That feeling... Like you've just woken up from a long dream you can't remember."

"I... maybe."

"That long dream has already slipped away, and that's why we can't remember much of it. Are you sure you've never seen that new kid somewhere before?"

"I'm fairly certain... Oh, is that why you're considered a noble, then? Because you can remember so much of it?"

"Yeah, sure. But that's just some pointless club ranking, though. I could care less." Pike scoffed, facing her once again.

"But because you're so hi-ranked, you can boss around so many lower-ranks!" Lillie cheered. "Isn't that wonderful?"

"I guess."

"So cool! You're always up to the most interesting schemes." Lillie held her chin in thought. "Though, you are making me recall something. It does feel like something's missing... but I wonder what? Hm..."

* * *

The knight closed the door and bolted it.

"Erm... Now that we're back and all," Duck said, holding the back of her head. "I'm feeling kind of hungry." She laughed nervously.

"I figured so. Hold on a minute," Fakir said, getting on his knees and climbing under his bed.

Bewildered by this, Duck gawked at him as he inched his way under. "Um," she emitted in confusion, wondering what he was doing and how long this would take. _Oh right, changing! _she remembered, distracting herself with her own business. She snapped to attention and hurried about with switching into her uniform.

After a good few moments, a battered steam trunk jolted out from under the bed, followed by an arm.

"Fakir?" Duck jumped, startled by its appearance.

"Yes?" he answered, climbing out behind it and and unlatching its lid. He opened it up to reveal a giant platter of food.

"You made something amazing happen again!" Duck cried out, drooling when she saw the delicious spread within. Diving for a plate of au gratins, she devoured it without restraint.

"Yes. Every time you open this trunk, a delicious meal will appear," Fakir said, leaning back against the side of his bed in exhaustion. "Just don't go overboard. Never open this case more than three times a day."

"Hmwa?" Duck gulped. "Why not?"

"I don't know. I just felt like writing that stipulation in for some reason," he admitted. "Maybe I'm getting as demented as Drosselmeyer was..."

"Scary!" Duck shivered. _I guess Fakir still has some ways to go before controlling that novelization ability of his..._ she thought, observing him closely. He had closed his long-lashed eyes, still tired from the journey they had partaken earlier that day.

"Hey. Aren't you going to eat?" Duck piqued.

"Yeah. Sure," he said, opening his eyes slightly. "...If you feed me."

"Feed you?" Duck echoed, her mind blanking. _Like forcing food down the hatch?_ she wondered;_ Wait, he's not a duck! _Shaking her mind straight, she began digging around in the trunk for some silverware.

"Uwa... like this?" she mumbled to herself, stabbing some food on a fork and inching closer to Fakir. She poked it at his mouth until he finally bit it.

"Is that way you're going to do it? Like a human?" he asked after clearing his mouth. "Aren't you a bird?"

"Huh?" Duck asked, her face freezing in mortification. _He doesn't possibly want me to do that, right...? It's too weird!_

"Birds feed each other by mouth, right? Am I mistaken?" he asked, looking away in red-faced embarrassment.

"Kind of... But. It's not that simple– uh, for a human– it's probably kind of gross and also actually not physically possible." Duck rushed, laughing uncomfortably while scratching her head. _I REALLY don't want to go in detail about it..._

"I see," Fakir said, standing up.

"Wait! Come back and eat!" Duck pleaded. _He hasn't eaten anything all day, how can his stomach take it?!_

"I'm not hungry," he announced crossly, folding his arms.

_Is... Is he pouting? _Duck wondered anxiously, reaching out to him. _Is that even possible for such a serious guy? __ Oh, he's mad at me, just look at that expression! _"I'll feed you like a duck then, just don't look so angry like that!" she cried out.

The door then made a suspicious creak.

"...Huh?" she emitted.

Fakir signaled her to be silent, and then quickly and soundlessly he paced to the door, placing his hands on the lock and the door handle– turning them both at the same time.

Two bodies fell into the room.

"Yaaagh!" Duck panicked, jumping up onto the bed.

"What were you two idiots doing?" Fakir questioned harshly, glaring down at the lot.

"Forgive us! It was an order from our Lady!" the tallest boy exclaimed, cowering.

"What the heck," Fakir said.

"Now if you'll excuse us–"

Fakir slammed the door closed before them.

"You aren't going anywhere until you explain yourselves," he said, his eyes flashing threateningly.

"It's... it's a club activity. We investigate who we're told to," the shorter boy blurted as he sat up. He had short brown hair and a perpetually clueless expression– Duck instantly recognized him from the ballet class.

"Who tells you to do these things?" Fakir demanded. "...Give me their names."

"Before we tell you anything, you have to understand the purpose of our club!" The boy defended.

"I don't care if you even have a purpose, you stay out of our business–"

"–Wait," Duck interrupted, standing up to greet them face to face. "If you're all this desperate, then surely there has to be a good reason. Right?" she asked, turning to face Fakir for concurrence. "Shouldn't we hear them out?"

"Do what you want," Fakir answered decisively. "In the end they're never coming around here again. I'll see to that."

"Thank you!" the short boy said, bowing thankfully. "We're trying to figure out why everyone has lost whole portions of their memories. It's understandable if you don't remember, but many people have admitted to a strange case of amnesia. Mysterious events... fantastical events– from about a year ago or so ago– are foggy and hard to remember! At first we thought they were forgotten dreams, but it turns out we all had the same ones..."

"Morons. Of course you lose you memories over time," Fakir said. "And everyone has the same common dreams. It's best not to trouble yourselves with something so useless."

Duck glanced at him sideways. _Is he intentionally playing dumb? What's the point of that? _she wondered;_ Does he not want anyone to know about Drosselmeyer's story? _She couldn't quite understand the reason for THAT.

"Look. I know what you two are talking about," Duck agreed. "I sort of remember all kinds of strange stuff from that time ago too, and now... everything is just so normal and it's weird! Even the ballet instructor." She hated to admit it– but the old teacher, Mr. Cat, had sort of grown on her.

"Huh... But aren't you new here?" the other boy asked.

"Errg, well. No. I had gone to school here over a year ago, but now that I'm back– no one remembers me. And that's how it is!" Duck garbled out, stiffening her arms at her side.

"Amazing... come to think of it, our Lady talks about the past ballet instructor all the time. Your memory may be on par with hers... If you joined our club, you could help guide us to our lost memories!"

"I can't do anything like that! I'm not very good at returning things!" Duck squeaked.

"You're invited anyways– If you join our club, I don't think our Lady or even the King will make us spy on you anymore. You could solve two problems at once!"

"What a marvelous invitation," the short boy chimed in.

"That's not an invitation, that's actually extortion," Fakir replied.

The two boys hunched over in defeat.

"Fine. If I promise to join," Duck said, "you'll have to promise one thing in return: No more eavesdropping on us for real. Alright?" She held out her hand to them.

"Right! Ok then. I'll discuss this with our Lady," the short boy responded, shaking her hand wildly. "She was very willing to get to know more about you."

"You got what you wanted, so get out of here," Fakir warned, holding his book bag up as if he were about to strike them with it. "We're going to be late to class now because of you."

"Uh, yes! We'll tell you more by tomorrow– though it may take a day or two depending on if the King shows up," the shorter boy declared. Without another word the two turned, opened the door, and ran out.

"That was..." Fakir trailed off, in word and body– with Duck following close behind him. It seemed he had wanted to say something, but wasn't even sure of how to put it into a sentence.

"You really don't want them to know about the Prince and the Raven, do you?" Duck finally asked. _I can sort of understand now, though, _she thought;_ You were the one who had to write the ending, and it was a very painful ordeal. But everyone was there all the while– they were all part of it. Don't they deserve to remember their "dream"?  
_

"There's no point in telling anyone anything," he said. "They didn't even know what was going on when they_ were _in the tale. So just let it go."

"But..." Duck argued, narrowing her eyes in defiance, "don't they have a right to know? They remember _something_! It's their memories, and if they want them back, they should b–"

"–I told you it's not a good idea– They're better off not having those memories!"

Turning her eyes away from him, they went on their way in silence; not one word was spoken between the two as they stepped down the dorm's stairs.

"We've had this kind of conversation before, haven't we?" Fakir asked, alluding to their initial fight over the prince.

Duck looked down at the steps and nodded.

"Tell them what you want. Just don't expose your identity. And leave me out of it." He finalized.

"Alright... I know anyways. Your secret is an important one."

~A King, a Lady, and now a Duck?...~


	13. The Bathing Duck

"You really like sleeping in, huh. How did you ever survive in nature?" the knight asked sternly, trying to shake the sleeping girl– who had turned back into a duck about half an hour before– awake.

"Quaaa..." the duck cooed, rolling her face into her pillow and snuggling under her sheets.

"Get up," he said, plopping her hat on. She poofed back into her human form and he looked away, for her shoulders were as bare as the rest beneath the sheets– or so he imagined. "If you ever want to bathe, you'll have to wake up even earlier than this," he went on, managing to keep a calm countenance. "You can't just go barging into the girl's bathroom when you're a known resident of the boy's dorm... Are you awake yet?"

"I'm... be swimming in the lake... forgot my soap. Don't need it..." Duck snored.

"Hopeless." Fakir shook his head, gathering his school books. Though it was barely light out, he had woken up an hour before her just to finish some late school work and get ready for class. _Fine. I'll let her sleep in a little more, _he thought a bit too generously_; It's because yesterday was a long day. But starting tomorrow I won't let her slack off. _He stopped and stepped back to appreciate her sleeping face. The girl, however, had slid down from her sheets and was now hanging off the edge of her bed– her mouth open, drooling, and her naked back fully exposed.

"You're ridiculous!" he blurted self-consciously, attempting to bundle her back up. "It's way too early in the morning for this..."

With a startled yelp, the girl jolted awake, leaping out of his arms and falling to the ground on her face.

"What are you doing?...!" He yelled in upset, shielding his eyes.

That day the knight had somehow gotten the girl ready to school with plenty of time to spare. In fact it had been the first time that week. Four days had elapsed since the girl had agreed to join the mysterious club, and no reply had come yet. Every day she watched her surroundings carefully– waiting for someone to approach her with new information. She had even asked the known club member in the ballet club for details, though he had refused to say much.

_All this nonsense about waiting for their 'king' to show up for approval,_ Fakir thought negatively, watching Duck's clueless face from his peripheral vision._ I'm getting impatient but I'm also glad nothing has happened... Though I really hate the wait until something does. _In literature class, which they were in now, he had made it so that Duck sat beside him. This was the case in all their other classes together as well.

From the middle of the classroom, Lillie looked behind at Duck, glancing and whispering to Pike. Fakir closed his eyes, deeply disgruntled. _These days I __especially__ feel like I can't trust those two, _he thought heatedly.

Of course Duck was staring back at the girls happily, foolishly nostalgic for the insane friendship the three once shared.

"Would you pay attention?" Fakir warned her under his breath. "I thought you needed more info on how to set up your ballet critique essay."

"Huh? Weren't you going to help me with that?" she asked ignorantly.

"What ever gave you that idiotic idea? For simple work like this, you should do it yourself."

"But yesterday you said you would– but now you won't," Duck cried. "You're so smart, but then so mean!"

"I did help you, remember?" He spat defensively. "I helped you write the outline."

"Did not," Duck whispered.

"You're just saying that because I won't write the whole thing for you!"

"But you're good at writing– It'd only take you a few minutes!"

"Don't be selfish. You need to learn how to do things yourself. A helpless woman is nothing but a burden."

"Stingy... If it's like this, then I'll never bother asking you again," Duck retorted under her breath– her eyes tightly shut in disapproval. It was almost like she had decided then and there that she would no longer take him very seriously... or even rely on him for _anything at all _for the matter.

"What... Don't be so ungrateful!" Fakir raised his flustered voice in exasperation– and all-too-loudly– for this alone caught the attention of the whole class– and especially the teacher.

"You two. If you plan on ignoring my lessons from now on, please... do so while you're mopping the boy's bathroom!" the teacher snapped angrily, her honest face becoming frighteningly mangled with anger. "Class Representative Pike, please escort them to them to the proper place!"

"Huh. When did Pike become Class Rep?" Duck asked with a troubled frown.

"You're busy worrying about that?...!" Fakir complained, full of disbelief.

Following a surprisingly-serious Pike, they were led down the hall and out and around the corner. After a brisk walk, they arrived at the locker room.

"Sorry guys. Supplies are in here. Good luck," Pike said gruffly but dutifully, unlocking the tall cabinet in the entryway. She closed the door behind them.

Duck couldn't help but feel hurt by the distant manner in which Pike treated her, so she forcefully threw herself into her work. "Ah, this brings back memories... Just leave it to me!" she exclaimed, taking a mop, some soap and a bucket from the closet and walking into the bathing area. "I'll have it done real quick... Yegh, the boy's bathroom is always so gross!" She laughed, her voice echoing and the loud sound of the far-away water faucet filling up the empty locker room.

"Idiot. I know it's mostly your fault, but don't do all the work by yourself," Fakir replied guiltily, retrieving a broom and following her in. "You're used to this kind of thing, aren't you?" he asked, referring to the constant cleaning detentions she used to get in the past for goofing off in class.

"Yep. But I got pretty fast at it! Now I'm a pro," she explained, putting her back into mopping.

"That's normally not something to be proud of." He began sweeping in a circle.

"Why? It's a form of hard work. You can be proud of hard work, right?"

The knight looked up at the girl: she wasn't smiling cheerfully or anything, but she looked determined– scrubbing at the yellow tiled floor diligently, even though it was obvious that something else was bothering her. He couldn't help but think of how cute she was.

And so they continued on for a good long time– removing dirt and covering every inch of the floor with soapy water.

Finally, Duck froze and broke up the monotony. "Oh! I just thought of a good idea!" she bursted, nearly causing Fakir to drop the mop he had since then replace his broom with. "I need to take a shower– if it's during class, then it's the perfect time," she elaborated. "Because then there's no people around, right?"

"A shower? Right now?" Fakir asked uncertainly. They probably only had about thirty more minutes or so left until the clock sounded and classes were changed.

"I'll make it real quick," she said, pulling off her clothes while running off towards the showers. "Oh, sorry!" She realized midway, pulling her shirt back to cover herself.

By now the knight was accustomed to the girl randomly disrobing in front of him– so he no longer grew too upset. He merely looked away with a burning face. "I'll clean up, then," he answered awkwardly, taking up the bucket to go outside. He felt he needed to get out of the shower area before he got clouded by too many strange thoughts. _She doesn't really understand these kinds of things– like the reason for being modest in front me. She just does so because she doesn't want to make me 'upset'. But if she knew the real reason, wouldn't it only make her scared? If she knew of the things I thought about, she'd probably never want to stand too close to me ever again... _

He sighed at these very difficult thoughts. Though he enjoyed the time they spent together, it was getting harder to be in the same room alone with her, especially at night.

_But... is it so bad if she knew about those things? _he pondered;_ If we're going to be together from now on, she has to learn about them SOME day.  
_

He froze in thought outside the door, slowly draining the bucket into the nearby planter. _At least we should become more comfortable with basic things. Like k... embracing,_ he thought. _But those things still advance to another... I can manage it, though. No... Aren't I just overestimating myself again?_

He stared blankly at the sky, still holding the bucket down to drain even though nothing was left in it.

"Um, excuse me," a male student said, squeezing past Fakir to get through the door.

"...Huh?" Fakir finally noticed. "Hey, you wait just a moment!" he yelled after him, finally understanding how he had just compromised the bathroom's security and let an intruder in.

Running inside, Fakir noticed a bathroom stall door closing. _This isn't good, _he thought._ I need to tell Duck that there's someone else here...  
_

Cautiously, he ran further down the hall to the showers and paused right in the doorway. He could hear water running- could even see it running down into the drain in the center of the room. He could even see Duck– eyes closed and scrubbing her long, unbraided hair down her back with one hand– tightly holding onto her hat with the other– and all without noticing anything.

"Duck," he yelled shortly, closing his own eyes.

"Fakir?" she replied, noticing him at last and bringing her arms over herself.

"There's someone else in here. Don't come out."

"There is?...!" she let out, mortified by this discovery._ If someone finds me here like this, there's no telling what the school will do...!_ She shook her head in panic.

"Huh? Who's taking a shower in the middle of class? That's really odd," the male student said and investigated, inching near the hallway in curiosity.

"You stay over there!" Fakir snapped, clenching his fist angrily.

"Wha! W-What are you so mad about?" the boy asked in frightened curiosity.

"We're... cleaning the showers right now," Fakir blurted, turning the boy around and pushing him back through the locker room. "And if you go in there, your muddy shoes will make a huge mess and I'll be extremely pissed off. Get out!" He brusquely and forcefully shoved the boy outside. Slamming the door behind him, Fakir bolted it shut. "So annoying..." He groaned, taking a deep breath.

"Is he gone?" Duck yelled from far away.

"Yes. That was close. Too close." _Though it's my own fault for getting so distracted in the first place!_ he mentally chastised himself.

"Thanks for the hard work, but uh. Could you find me a towel?" she asked hesitantly. "It's ok if it's a face towel or something. Sorry about this."

"You could've thought about that before jumping in so easily," Fakir grumbled to himself, searching through their lockers. Duck only kept her ballet clothes in hers; no towel since she apparently didn't sweat very much? _No, she simply isn't the type who prepares things ahead of time,_ he thought, taking out his own towel and observing it in uncertainty. "I only use it for my face, but isn't it still gross to give this to her?" He frowned. _I don't know! Though simple, this is a very awkward decision to make!_

He put his palm to his face in aggravation._ I'm such an idiot. Why did I ever think it was a good idea to make her live as a boy? I should've just skipped school until we found the hat. Then she could've gone to the girl's dorm to live. She lived there before with similar conditions and had no problems. ...But I had no idea we'd find the hat so soon! And to be honest, I really don't like the idea of her being alone without my supervision.  
_

Once again self-absorbed with his inner conflicts, the knight didn't notice the girl walk into the doorway behind him.

"Did you find anything?" she asked. Soaking wet, she protectively held her pile of clothes up against her.

Fakir pitched the towel at her. "Yes!" he yelled. "Dry off and get dressed." He bumbled away, holding his nose to a wall in an unnerving act of self-punishment.

"Ok... Ack! Quaa!" she blurted, dropping everything to the floor. "Quaaaaaack!" Feathers flew about as she flapped and panicked.

"What the... You let go of your hat, didn't you?" Fakir said, daring to look at her.

The girl had turned back into a little duck. "Quack-quack-qua-" _And after I was so careful in the shower!_ she squawked.

"Look. This isn't going to work. You're going back to the room now," Fakir declared, picking up the duck in one arm and her clothes in the other.

"Quack quaquaqua-" _No wait! Your class! _She wriggled in his grasp.

"You mean 'our' class, right? This is far more concerning at the moment!" He stormed out the door, hiding her in his uniform's blazer.

* * *

The locker room's door swung open and Fakir stepped out with a bundle of clothes in his arm.

"Finally," Pike said to herself, straining her eyes from behind the hedge to see. _Clothes. And... a bird? _She spied the yellow feathers sticking out from Fakir's blazer. "Is that a duck?" she asked herself, narrowing her eyes. "So... Wait. Where's Duck then?"

As soon as the knight had wandered far away out of sight– the curious class representative hurried to the front door of the boy's locker room and readied her hands. "I'm just going in to lock the cabinet back up. That's all," she told herself, pushing the door and stepping in. She stood silently for a moment in the empty locker room. "Anyone there? Class representative here! I'm in here– just locking up the cleaning closet!" she yelled loudly.

She waited for a response but none came.

"How the... so where's Duck?" she whispered to herself. She wandered into the bathroom. All the stall doors were wide open with no one in sight. Stumbling into the showers, she again saw nothing.

"His name is Duck... But he's not in here. But Fakir only came out holding a duck and some clothes..." she thought aloud to herself in confusion.

_Duck disappearing... and then..._

_An actual duck?...!_

"This... this is getting really weird!" she yelled to herself, grasping her face. _But somehow... this human-animal thing feels very familiar!  
_

~How desperately one tries to grasp the dreams that slip away, and only if we could remember them forever from the moment we wake up. But wouldn't the logic of the dreaming disturb the waking?~


	14. Lovers Waltz

"This is an emergency, so it's ok if I borrow some things!" Pike said and flitted about, opening locker after locker. At last finding a spare boy's uniform, she threw it on. Further thieving, she stole a gray hat and capped her pink head of hair. "I know. I was gonna promise not to spy on Duck and Fakir anymore. But I just can't pass this oddity up," Pike told herself.

She had received the news of Duck wanting to join the Memory Recovery Club only days before, and in that moment she had wished to accept Duck into the club no matter what the king said. But if she did that, she would possibly loose her position and command over lower-ranked members as well as their wealth of collected information. So, she had to wait.

_Duck... I think I can remember him, laughing and crying with Lillie and me. What were those days like? _she wondered solemnly._ I can't see any details, just the void of Duck's tears flooding the cafeteria table. Was that really Duck? It seemed like that person was a girl... Would a boy feel comfortable crying like that, even if to his friends? _She smacked her forehead to regain focus.

"Fakir was definitely going back to the dorm with that fowl," Pike thought aloud, running away from the locker room and hurrying off to the boy's dormitory with the intentions of infiltrating it.

Back at their quarters, the knight dropped the duck and her pile of clothes onto the bed. "Keep still! I'm going to find you a better towel," he said, opening his armoire and rummaging around.

"Quaqua quack-quack-quack quaqua-quack!" _I don't need a towel- I only needed to get dressed, not come back here!_ Duck wriggled about, quite irritated by his insistence. In secret though, she felt very relieved that she didn't have to go back to class– for school work was absolute drudgery. Incidentally, she'd also felt the same way when they were excused from class earlier to clean as their punishment. She shook her little duck head to chase away the thought. _No, it's bad to miss class– especially for Fakir!_ she told herself;_ If he keeps skipping out on lessons, he won't be able to graduate!_

"Don't be so idiotic," Fakir scolded her. "You needed to dry off properly. A hat-full of wet hair will make you sick."

"Quack-quack-quack qua-quack-qua quack..."_ Water rolls off of me and I dry off fast anyways... _she answered honestly.

With a petulant expression, Fakir dropped her magical hat back on her.

"Quaaa!" Duck let out, the hat encompassing her whole head as she changed back.

Fakir jumped when he heard the bed creak from the sudden springing of her returned form. "Dry yourself off good," he said, leaving a big towel on the edge of the bed for her. Only moments later, however, did he notice her alarming muffled calls of desperation. "What's wrong?" He dared to peek at her.

"MPHHHH!" Duck emitted- curled into a ball and desperately pulling at her hat, for her head was stuck entirely inside– and all the way past the brim at that.

"How the...?!" Fakir exclaimed, leaping to her and peeling the hat off and turning it inside out.

Duck gasped for breath before falling back down into her duck form.

With her lying there lethargically, Fakir battled with an extreme wave of guilt from having hurt her himself. "Here," he said anxiously, carefully setting the hat back on her and this time watching closely as she shot back into her human form right underneath him.

Streams of tears ran from her eyes. "It's like... like my entire head was slammed in a door..." she bawled, appearing to be traumatized for life.

"I'm sorry," Fakir uttered pathetically, though he couldn't help but feel annoyed that she actually got injured in such a ridiculous way. "I promise I won't do that again," he said, though she didn't seem to hear him at all.

She stared off at the wall behind him, a complicated expression settling on her face. Tears continued to stream.

Was she intentionally ignoring him now? "I'll write your essay for you...!" he bribed her in slight irritation, hoping she would just stop crying.

But she only kept on doing so.

He began to grow even more vexed.

"I said I'm sorry already... What. Did you break anything?" he asked, lifting her chin up so he could inspect her face.

She looked up at him with her wide eyes, the tears halting and a dumbfounded stare taking their place. This was unlike her, for she was completely transfixed for some unknown reason. He knew it was mostly impossible, but he wondered if it was because of him.

"...Good, nothing's wrong," he murmured, his body temperature suddenly rising.

_Nothing's wrong?... _

The knight couldn't even think clearly or concentrate anymore. He quickly shook off his jacket and then grabbed her bare shoulders, leaning her backwards.

"Ha?" Duck muffled, gently being pushed down and pinned by him. "Wai–" she began but stopped, her mouth sealed by his as he kissed her even more forcefully than their first night together.

_This is love, right? _she surmised, despite it feeling much more heavier than the type of love she once felt for the prince; _But if that's so, why does it feels like I'm in trouble? _

Duck wriggled and squirmed her mouth away, ready to say something or to escape. But she felt his fingers softly caressing her stomach– inching their way up. Her mind went numb from the sensation. For some reason, all her inhibitions were now gone. Like she had nothing to worry about at all. _Why is it that I don't want to get away anymore? Is it because it feels good? Is this bad? What's this all about, anyways?  
_

She couldn't concentrate enough to question herself further. Slowly– awkwardly– she raised her arms up over his back and hung onto him tightly. His warm breath felt soft on her neck as he kissed her quickly, raising her up slightly in order to reach her chest.

She clenched her eyes tightly shut as he slid his lap between her legs. She dug into his shoulders with her fingers as he put his head against her chest. He was listening to her maddened heartbeat with a complacent expression.

_Is he just making fun of me again?_ she winced in annoyance. _How does he know how to do all this weird stuff?...!_

"Duck..." he spoke, watching her closely, "did you ever learn how humans..." he trailed off.

"Huh? How what?" Duck asked worriedly.

"You know," he said, looking away, "_make love._"

"Make love?" She echoed blankly.

_Huh?_

_..._

"Yeah, isn't that just like being in love?" she answered, sure of herself this time. "Because you can't make love, it's born from the heart!" _What a silly question,_ she thought.

Fakir ceased what he was doing. _She didn't learn anything in school? _he wondered;_ Isn't this the kind of thing that girls also talk about? Or is it just guys? No way..._

He sweated.

_Maybe there's some kind of equivalent meaning in duck-form._

He forcefully tried to imagine.

(Something like this?: ¡¢¶•ªªº–º≥µΩ)

He held his forehead in apprehension.

"What. Is that wrong?" Duck asked in suspense.

Fakir could only shake his head. _It's like she was born yesterday... It's understandable,_ he thought on; _But. How can she consent to anything if she doesn't even know what it is? Wouldn't that make me a criminal?_

"Get dressed," Fakir ordered, lifting her off his lap. "We're going to the library."

"Library? We need to get back to class," she said, sitting back up and grabbing her clothes.

"The most important thing right now is that you understand how your body even works- or else you'll always be just a duck!" he contended.

Duck's fingers stopped buttoning her shirt. _Understand the human body? _she thought._ But I already know how to walk. I even learned how to talk. And I did it all by myself!_

"I understand my human body quite well, and I don't need you bossing me around telling me that I don't!" Duck replied angrily.

"Fine. I'll stop this useless arguing," Fakir said, facing away. "But try to understand that you were raised a different way. So there's things that others your age already know– but yet you _don't_. If you continue on like this, even I won't be able to see you as anything more than a child."

Duck's eyes bored into the floor, her heart and mind considering his words carefully. "Ok. I understand," she said. "But. Let's go to the library after class."

"Fine... Did you dry your hair?"

"I already told you. I dry off fast." She huffed.

"Fine. Do what you want." He huffed back at her. _It's like we just took 10 steps forward and then 20 steps back..._ The knight thought in despair.

Duck finished changing by slipping on her shoes and standing up, ready to go out the door.

"Wait. I was thinking earlier– when you were holding your hat in the shower..." Fakir said abruptly. _She remained human while she was doing that, _he added mentally._  
_

"Oh that? Yeah, it's a cool trick, huh? So what were you thinking?" Duck asked in determination.

"Even if we never find a way to break the curse, it might be just enough to merely carry the hat on your person when you decide to be known as a woman."

"So then I'll be a duck that's a girl that was a boy but then known as a woman." Duck nodded certainly, following his words closely.

"You're only going to confuse yourself now," Fakir said.

Outside the door, Pike listened in on them carefully. Her eyes only grew wider from Duck's proclamation. Though she absolutely wished to, there was no way Pike would let out a yell of surprise now– she was that resolute. Still, the prying girl just could help but lean against the door to stabilize herself from the shocking truth. _So Duck WAS a duck, _she thought,_ But he's really a girl?...! So that means..._

The door betrayed her and creaked in the silence, alerting the couple that they were not alone.

"You have got to be kidding me," Fakir spat, his feet moving towards the door.

_C...crap!_ Pike thought nervously, pulling her ear away from it. She had to make a run for it. Right before she could, however, the door opened and Fakir looked down at her– the shadows oj his face only accentuating his great anger.

Pike stood up strongly, pointing her finger at him. "Yeah! I know your secret now! So?" she blurted, forcing herself to appear smug. "I came here to tell Duck that she's been accepted into the Memory Recovery Club, meaning she's ours now, so you two have to tell me everything! Or else."

"WHAT?" Duck exclaimed, walking between Fakir and Pike as they tried to kill each other with looks alone.

~Must a Lady and a Knight must fight for a Duck?_"  
_


	15. A Knight's Dream

The knight stood before the doorway, silenced– the details of his face shadowed by his dismay. "You were spying on us– you broke the promise you made to Duck," he said– almost as if he believed accusing Pike would make the whole problem go away.

_Duck's secret was exposed, _Fakir thought_; What would happen? Can I even do anything to protect her now?  
_

"I'm here on business, so don't blame me for overhearing," Pike said, resting her hands on her hips and trying and stave off the guilt and shame. "Besides, _that_ promise was made by my two lackeys, not me. They're only my proxy when I tell them to be!" _Ah, but I made up so many lies on the spot just– what do I do?_ she wondered and worried, trying her best to retain her usual tough and cool exterior; _Duck hasn't really been accepted into the club yet... I simply said that as an excuse for my being here!_

Duck peered at the ground– her eyes deeply troubled. "Pike. I always wanted to tell you then. Even back when we were good friends," Duck said, trying to wind-up her resolve. "But I just couldn't."

"Huh?" Pike uttered, unsure of where Duck was going with this.

"About really being a real duck. I thought–" Duck answered– her voice wavering, "–I always thought you'd stop being my friend if I told you! Please don't stop being my friend!" She hiccuped like a small child, her tears flooding down her face once again.

"Duck, that's enough for today," Fakir said, moving closer to her side. He held her shoulders, suddenly resentful of the fact that she was so concerned with what Pike thought of her and not the other way around.

"Why would I ever do that?" Pike asked in confusion. "Do I seem like the kind of person that'd stop being friends with someone just because they were normally a duck?" She then pondered to herself: _Would anyone? Because,__ if I remember correctly– there were once talking anteaters and meerkats running around school! What difference would a duck girl make? This girl is..._

"–So cute," Pike said, unable to stop herself from grabbing Duck away from Fakir and affectionately pummeling her with her fist.

"You mean... you mean you don't hate, or despise me," Duck questioned– taken aback by Pike's painfully warm display of affection, "or think I'm too weird?"

"Of course you're too weird! It'd be weird if you weren't weird," Pike said matter-of-factly.

"What is your problem?" Fakir demanded, trying to ward Pike off with his intimidating death glare.

Pike let go of Duck and stood up to him, her eyes just as determined as his. "What's yours?" she asked. "You think you have a good enough reason for keeping this cutie all to yourself? Talk about greedy." Pike shook her head, taking out a paper and handing it to Duck, and then continuing: "If you want to keep up this fairy tale, fine by me. I won't tell anyone– not even Lillie. Just as long as Duck is happy. You'd just better not do anything to Duck that she doesn't like," the girl threatened, marching away cooly.

Fakir stood by– too shaken to respond.

"Pike..." Duck whispered, her mind trailing off; "Where'd she get that boy's uniform?"

Fakir closed the door incredulously.

* * *

Fiery, lukewarm sunlight faded in through the library window– and just beyond the outside roof eaves where the setting sun was touching.

Scribbling madly on his parchment, Fakir reached the back of his hand up to wipe the sweat from his brow, thoughts from earlier still racing through his mind. Though Duck had insisted on going back to class afterward the Pike incident, he just couldn't clear his mind enough to go back with her. Instead, he headed to the library alone.

There were now too many things to worry about. Too many things to concentrate on.

Aside from the endless schoolwork, Fakir now had Duck's and his own problems to solve. As he reached for a new sheet of paper, the boom of book closing pounded through the room and tore away his attention.

"Autor," Fakir muttered, knowing the studious boy's habits well enough to recognize them from sound alone.

"Writing stories again?" Autor questioned, taking up the invitation to speak with him.

Fakir merely exhaled and un-latched his leather-bound note case. "I was earlier. But I lost track of time and began finishing schoolwork. Here." He dug through his papers impatiently, stuffing a stack of notes into Autor's hands.

Pushing up his glasses, Autor looked over the stack decorously, and after a nerve-wracking block of silence, he finally spoke. "Your writing style is still too abrupt. Like a child's. You need to word your sentences to be more concise." The boy scrutinized.

"Obviously," Fakir said, his face blushing from frustration. He lashed out and grabbed the papers back from Autor.

"I don't understand. Your theory papers are amazing... but your fiction leaves much to be desired," Autor remarked coldly, turning away. "How are things coming along with you and that Duck girl?"

Fakir dropped his elbows to the tabletop, cradling his head between them.

"Don't tear out your hair, you'll go bald," Autor declared.

"That girl... One of Duck's friends found out about her," Fakir finally managed to sputter.

"That's–" Autor paused, his attention fully gained by his acquaintance's plight.

"She said she'd keep quiet for Duck's sake, but... I'm just so unsure about how things will go now."

Autor recovered from his surprise and chuckled to himself. "Believe it or not, but this probably makes things easier for you in some ways," he said.

"What are you going on about?" Fakir erupted. "This just piles onto the existing problem–"

"–That you had created," Autor interjected. "Haven't you thought about what happens with Duck after you graduate? She can't stay in the boy's dorm– sooner or later she'd get another roommate. Didn't you plan on keeping her here to learn ballet?"

Fakir couldn't think of a word to say. Of course he had thought about that many times before– but he had never arrived at any real solution.

"I thought so. I know you think things out carefully, most of the time..." Autor went on; "But you tend to jump to conclusions and act stupidly whenever it involves that girl. Love really is a frightening thing. A fool's final folly."

"Now you sound like an old man," Fakir said with a laugh. "Tell me what you're thinking. Do you have a better idea or what?"

Pleased at having piqued the knight's curiosity enough, Autor meticulously pushed his glasses up once again. "Being found out by her friend has the advantage of forcing you to act upon the more sensible choices... Like taking Duck away from this academy."

"Idiot! This is the best ballet school in the country– Duck has dreams–"

"Pff, dreams indeed." Autor laughed. "There's another option as well: take her abroad to study, then bring her back in a year or so when she's grown. Then finally have her attend as a girl."

"That sounds... convoluted. But plausible." Fakir gazed upwards to imagine this scenario. Why hadn't he thought of that? _So irritating, _he thought;_ This guy always catches me in the places where I mess up_._  
_

"Fakir," Autor said sharply, regarding the light from the window but not it's beauty; "Duck's dream. Is it really to become a prima ballerina? Or are you just feeling guilty? Guilt over how much more naive she is than you– guilt for forcing her into a human just to soothe yourself... Even in human years, she's so much younger than you. But I know. If you were rich, I suppose you could take any young bride you desired."

_That is not... _the knight's thoughts lingered at this. "You bastard..." He trembled, quickly gathering up his things. Bundled sheets of paper fumbled out from his hands, but he violently stuffed them away in his case.

"You'll thank me later," Autor called after him. Fakir kicked the library door open and stalked off.

* * *

"I guess she didn't go back to class," Duck said, walking aimlessly about the courtyard. "But doesn't she have important duties to do as the Class Rep?" Parking herself on the edge of a water fountain, she once again unfolded Pike's note to read it. _It says she wants to know who I am... That's right– this note was written before she found out... But found out what? _Duck wondered_; Hm. So... she wants to meet with me secretly._

Duck held the note tighter, staring at it intently. "A secret place in the woods?" she read aloud; "A white tower hidden in ivy." Duck frowned. _In all my days in the woods, I've never seen such a place. Is she sure about this? Oh well, it seems to have directions..._

"Ah! The meeting time is in an hour!" Duck squawked, flapping her arms frantically and almost falling into the fountain. "But what about Fakir?" Jumping to her feet, she ran back for the dorm. _If he's there, I'll take him with me! _she thought;_ If he's not, I'll leave a note– and that's that. I have to go. I need to tell Pike everything... She's probably waiting right now! Besides, _Duck realized_; I distinctly remember Fakir telling me to do whatever I wanted the day those those lackeys recruited me. That's right, he flat-out told me to not involve him!  
_

Bursting into the their dorm room, panting, Duck quickly looked around. _Oh, I guess Fakir isn't here! I'll just leave a note then. _Shuffling through his desk, she produced stationery and quickly scribbled a note. Placing her hand back in the drawer to return the supplies, however– it smacked against three peculiar objects.

"Walnut shells?" she said, holding them up in the palms of her hands. _That's odd,_ she thought. _Why would Fakir keep these in here? A homework time snack? _"I am kinda hungry... I hope he doesn't mind." She stuffed them into her jacket's pocket. "Oh, the sun's almost gone. It's probably going to get cold."

Opening the wardrobe, the girl grabbed a thick coat and headed for the door. Leaving the academy, she ran urgently towards the threshold of the darkening woods.

~What awaits the Duck at the King's tower?~


	16. Ball at the Ivory Tower

Once upon a time there was a girl whose mother had died.

The girl was a beautiful yet lonesome princess, and her father– the king– didn't love her. One day he decided to marry her to a monstrous man in exchange for a great deal of silver. Though the princess was immensely upset... she hatched a marvelous plan beneath her tears.

As a bridal gift, the princess asked her father for a fur coat made from the pelts of a thousand animals and three dresses: one like the sun, one like the moon, and one like the stars. Her father, however, easily met her requests– announcing that she would be married the next day.

In the hours between darkness and light, beneath candlelight, the girl donned her fur coat and packed. Carefully, she stuffed her three celestial dresses and her mother's three treasures away in three magical walnut shells... along with a delicious spice her mother had once taught her how to blend.

"My father who is so hateful... To marry me to such a horrible man," the princess said; "I shall leave them both forever." And so she fled into the woods long before the sun rose.

But did they really not love her?

* * *

Through the woods the girl ran, clamoring over well-known tree roots and dodging familiar branches.

_That time after the story ended when I was just a duck again– I came back here to live, _Duck thought, remembering those days when Fakir only treated her like his pet._ It was a wonderful and peaceful time– despite new neighbors having migrated in. All the other birds would honk and cover the place with down and feathers. The lake was such a lively place. _

_But somewhere in my heart, I felt a tormenting pang. The joy of being a girl had left me, and I believed I would never return. Still, I was delighted whenever Fakir came to see me– sitting near the water's edge for hours– writing and watching me float. I would try so hard to swim and dive fancily to impress him. Sure I got clumsy and hurt my wing, but I couldn't understand why he told me my home was no longer safe. Grabbing me up and carrying me away, the one I loved– he– locked me up from the breeze of the lake and the wild places so familiar to me._

_Fakir– always doing things to try and keep me safe, even if I don't like them. It's just how his love is... Aw, though I left so cheekily like that, I can only imagine how upset he'll be when he finds out I wandered off! I need to get back as soon as possible so he doesn't worry long.  
_

"Let's see, in Pike's letter, it says that 'the white ivy covered tower lingers in the north.' Whatever that means," Duck said, scratching her head. _But if it really was a tower,_ she wondered:_ Wouldn't I be able to see it peeking above the trees– perhaps even in the distance? _"Pike... What's with this?" Duck asked herself. She had already been wandering for what seemed like hours. Was it already too late to meet at the note's stated time? Her eyes drooping, she yawned and went on.

_I'm feeling so incredibly sleepy right now... even more so than I usually would. _Turning around, Duck spied a suspiciously inviting tree hollow. _Ah, that looks comfortable! That would hide me well until I wake up. I'll sleep there for awhile... just a bit...  
_

"Nmfh." Climbing inside, the duck girl tucked her hat under her shirt and bundled herself up tightly in her big coat. Closing her eyes, sleep consumed her in one bite. But rising up restlessly between various dreams– her awareness split across and threw her awake.

The clinking sound of armor rang out. The sound of a knight.

_Fakir? ..._ Duck thought, opening her groggy eyes in the moonlight. Cold iron grabbed her; a strange hand clutched her arm aggressively and plucked her from her tree hollow– spinning her around until it latched onto her back. Bewildered standing straightly en pointe, she glanced about to view her assailants. _Huh?... Why am I wearing point shoes? _she thought, looking down at the fuzzy slippers;_ And why is my coat now made from patches of fur? _She was surrounded by a company of knights– the circle of them moving like a single body.

_Isn't this like..._

"Ah!" she cried out, unable continue. The knight had lifted her upwards into a fish dive– forcing her to extend her limbs and posture. Bringing her back down to earth, she leapt away, twirling inward and propelling her feet to get away from the hasty knight. Flitting from knight to knight, they swung towards her– causing her to move back and forth– avant and arriére.

_We're dancing? _Duck realized;_ But why?...! _"Wait!" she said, holding her palm out to stop them. "Why are you doing this?" she asked, kneeling on one knee and bringing her hands together in a plea.

The knight said nothing, pointing squarely to the ground before gesturing and tying one invisible knot through the air. With authority he next pointed at Duck; the knights marched forward with his command, readying their ropes. Lashing them around her they took her away– carrying her a far ways across the black forest.

* * *

Throwing her down on the unlit floor, the knight slammed the door behind her. Though the ground was hard and cold, the room was hot and stuffy, and the glow of an ember-filled furnace lighted Duck's path. "Where... Where am I?" she cried, standing up and tip-toeing forward. _Some sort of kitchen?_

Leaning into the furnace's light, she discerned a figure– the back of a round and squatty, fat-necked man. "Eh... Excuse me, sir. But..." Duck drifted, unsettled by his sweatiness.

When the man turned around, however, Duck saw his extended features in the shadows– a rounded nose like a fleshy button and pink, pointed ears. He snorted.

_A pig man?...! _Duck trembled. _But there's no reason to be afraid. That's right... I am a duck, after all. _

"Could you please tell me where I am?" she asked, trying her best to be cordial.

"Hrng. In the royal kitchen," the pig-man muttered, wheeling back around.

"But why? What did they send me here?_  
_

"It seems they've decided to make to you a servant." He sniffed. "Want to get out of here? Finish this soup and something good will happen." Moving backwards, he disappeared into the shadows.

"Make this soup? What do you mean?" she inquired. "...Hello?"

No answer ever returned.

"Alright then. I'll make this soup," she said full of determination, taking the wooden ladle in hand and spooning out a sip. "Aaugh. Tastes weak!" She winced, setting the ladle down. _In fact, it seems like there's nothing in it! _Digging through her coat pocket, she pulled out a walnut. "I guess this could help." She checked a few cupboards first. "Yep. I don't see anything else here that could flavor this soup." Cracking open the walnut shell, however, her eyes caught sight of a vast space stored within. "Eh?" she emitted. Inside she saw a far away glass bottle and a golden dress. Turning the shell over into her hand, a bit of gold-flecked tulle flopped out. Pulling the shell away, the rest of the gold satin dress fell out, cradling the bottle and a large golden ring with it.

"Well that doesn't make much sense, but... OK," Duck said, eying the tiny walnut shell and then the dress, over and over. _Not only that, but why was a walnut like this in Fakir's desk drawer? I can only wonder. I guess he can do anything, being a story teller and all..._

Observing the bottle closely, Duck could tell that it contained a strange dusty substance– uncorking and whiffing it revealed it to be a deliciously spicy salt. "Perfect! Almost too convenient," she remarked, measuring it into the soup. Stirring while humming, she turned away to look back at the glistening dress on the floor. Short and frilly... Wasn't it more of a tutu? "It's been a long time since I've seen something so princess-y and beautiful. I'm always in plain, boyish clothing..." Quickly giving into her girlish yearnings, she undressed and slipped into the delicate costume. Just wearing it seemed to illuminate the room with sunlight. Placing the large golden ring on her head, she sighed in delight. It felt so pretty.

_"Cliiick–" _a sound was made and the girl spun around. _Someone coming? _she realized. Urgently, she threw her fur coat back on and stuffed her things inside the walnut to pocket them all away.

Noisily, the pig chef reappeared. "Hmm... Smells good," he said, his flat nose sniffing away. "Since you did such a good job, I'll not throw the scalding soup on you and I'll even let you go out and enjoy the ball." Walking off, he lit a candle on a far away counter and lifted the wooden lid of a heavy, oversized bread box.

This was certainly no ordinary bread box.

"Wooow... There's a tunnel inside," Duck chimed, climbing inside to have a look around.

"Hurry up– the ball ends in half an hour," he told her. "Have fun dancing."

In she crawled– down the stony, dark and narrow tunnel. "I hope this even goes somewhere..." Duck muttered, growing more and more nervous by the second. Just when she was about to fill with dreadful anxiety, the tunnel turned and light mercifully flooded in from the exit. Popping out of the wall, she stepped onto the amber and champagne checkered floor and observed the colossal white planter pot before her.

A marvelous orchestra played from beyond her vision– causing Duck to adjust her ears to identify the familiar tune they carried. "Isn't that... erm... No, it's from Don Quixote. Act one?" she told herself uncertainly, peeking out from behind the solitary planter.

Out on the ballroom floor she saw dozens of beautifully clad girls and boys– swaying and clasping their hands as they danced beneath a stunning crystal chandelier. Far beyond the dance floor, a purple carpeted staircase led to an ornate and golden throne. On it sat a boy with short and wavy hair which was dark taupe in color and glistening with magnificence. A polished brass eye mask concealed his questionable identity.

"Is that the king?" Duck gasped, yearning to know. _Somehow, he seems very familiar, _she thought;_ Like I know him already... _"Wait, does this mean I made it to the ivory tower? Ah, that's it– I can't take it anymore!" she declared, throwing off her fur coat; "I'm going to ask him right here and now about what's going on!" Cantering out from behind the flower pot, she bounded onto the dance floor, gazing around at the crowd and freezing from their stares. Flipping back around, her feet landed in fourth position, her hand on her hip, her right arm thrown back.

_Why are they staring at me? Aren't I dancing as lively as they are? _Duck wondered;_ Then... Am I not dancing lively enough? That must be it. I need to blend in until I can get close enough to the king! _Clenching her eyes shut, she kicked up her leg and glissaded across the floor. Glancing upwards the grand staircase, she saw the handsome king stand– his cape falling down behind him when he rose. _Hm? Why is he looking at me all funny?_ she wondered;_ Uh oh, does he know I came from the kitchen? _Leaning back, frightened– she watched as he descended the staircase and gently took her hand in his.

"Wait–" she said, pulling back. Her conscience was making her feel guilty about this lavish attention all of a sudden. It must've been because Fakir was waiting all alone back at the dorm.

"Ma cherie. You are as radiant as the sun. Please let us dance," the King said, extending his other hand towards the ballroom floor and inviting her to join.

_Ma cherie?_ Duck repeated in her mind, her eyes practically shrinking into tiny beads at this– and her eyebrows furrowing into thin lines. _As radiant as the sun? Corny... He's really corny! _She shook her head._ No no, it's rude of me to think that. _"Er... Thank... you," she responded to him at last. _He really does seem familiar to me, though.  
_

Throwing himself forward and dramatically kneeling on a backwards bent leg, the king peered into her face before bolting into the air– startling Duck enough to send her whirling backwards. The two of them stepped together– fluttering across the floor like pinwheels set in motion by a warm gust of wind. Duck's heart raced as she struggled to keep her ankles strong in time with him. _I'm dancing... I'm really dancing with everything Fakir has taught me,_ she thought;_ When I was Princess Tutu, it felt so different. I hardly had to think. But now... Now I have to concentrate to tone my pose! My muscles are burning; I'm dancing with every ounce of my true self! I dare not think of anything else but how I want to move– or at least how I'm supposed to move... I only know this! Fakir's training-from-hell really paid off!  
_

It was true. For countless hours after class Fakir had drilled Duck on the barre– forcing her to remaster the five positions– yelling at her for forgetting to bring her stomach in on turns, endlessly bending her into thousands of slow motion demi plies and relevés, and practically pulling her limbs out of their sockets. _Thinking about it hurts even more..._ Duck grimaced, holding her arms in grand pose. _No-no-no! _She gnashed her teeth together. _I must concentrate on the situation at hand! Just what is going on here? What's with this king? What's with this place?...!_

"–Duck!" a girl yelled, grabbing Duck's arm and spinning her around.

"Pike!" Duck yelped in surprise; "Oh thank goodness. Please tell me what's going on!"

"Your Highness– this is the girl of Queenly memory that I had invited into the club without your approval," Pike stated, kneeling to the King. "Please forgive me."

"Is all this the Memory Recovery Club?" Duck yelped, holding her face in terror as a server offered her a glass of white wine; in her stress, she took and guzzled it down. "Why is there wine and music?" She pointed to the live orchestra. "Why are all these students here after dark? And why is everything all so flashy?!"

"I see... Since you brought me such a stunning mademoiselle, I shall forgive you," the King said, ignoring Duck and dismissing Pike with a wave of his hand. "Duck– I remember you," he then said, putting his hand to his brass eye mask: "Do you remember me?" Lifting it off, he finally revealed his face.

"–Femio?...!" Duck exclaimed, falling to her knees.

_~The tower holds a grand secret; the King!~_

* * *

Pfft... Femio...


	17. Memory Aquarium

Once upon a time there was a princess who ran away from home. She forsook her father, the king, and her husband to be.

Into the woods she fled with the objects she had carefully packed: three dresses, her mother's gold ring, gold thimble, and golden brooch. All were packed in the three walnut shells. The morning came and then the afternoon fell; growing tired, the princes climbed into a tree trunk to rest.

However, hunters from another kingdom found the girl in her strange fur coat and took her captive– back to their kingdom to be a servant in the royal kitchen.

In the royal kitchen the girl toiled, until one day, she heard news that the king would be holding a ball.

Asking the cook if she could attend, he told her that she could go for awhile–

but only if she could make the soup.

* * *

Lillie fearfully clenched her bed sheets tighter. She had heard that awful racket once again: the sound of moving furniture and opening cabinets. It was an unsettling noise to hear in the dark morning hours.

_And the worst part is, Pike isn't even here!_ Lillie recollected, trembling further. There was no one around to bother or cling to. The hall was empty, save for the violent thumping and crashing in the next room. "I'm scared," she pouted, pulling her pillow over her head as well._Though I shouldn't be, because what if were actually something scandalous and fun?_ Oh, but something so loud as to wake me up simply can't be fun. When's it going to stop? It's even scarier than a lightning storm!  


A soft shadow lit in Lillie's memories. A flowing white gown and a long, orange braid. A girl. The feeling of holding onto someone safely during scary times. Or perhaps even choking that person to assuage one's fears. A tender and squeaky voice, like a rubber ducky.

Lillie held her forehead. _There's that strange feeling again. I'm thinking of a person I thought I knew, but I actually don't, _she thought;_ Why is this feeling so startling and sad? It feels like I misplaced an important piece of jewelry or something. Hm. _In spite of herself, Lillie had already lifted herself out of bed. Carefully opening her door, she peaked out into the hallway. _The rattling noise is coming from Pike's room... but it's not Pike._

Ignoring it, Lillie's eyes instead sought the blanched door at the end of the hall. Clinging to the wall, she remembered that the room was reserved for poor borders, although no one had stayed in it for years. Regardless, she was still drawn to it.

_As the ruckus next door gets louder, that room up ahead is drawing me in and giving me a startling sensation– of comfort, of familiarity... Though I don't know why, _she thought;_ Maybe... I want to find that girl with that orange braid and squeaky voice so I can squeeze her through these moments of impending doom? Ooh, but what if she were really a ghost, hm? Scary. So scary! _She giggled in spite of her fear and the blood rush it brought– though, perhaps maybe _because_ of it.

Lillie crept forward. As her fluffy white bloomers brushed past the door frame, the noises from Pike's room grew louder, and her heart thumped in alarm as she sensed that the violent intruder would soon burst into the hall. Hurriedly reaching the blanched door on the far end, she crept safely inside.

In the poor boarders room, there was only a side table with a wash basin in the corner and an old window which gave a generous view of the roof and the deep blue sky. For some reason, she was expecting the windows to burst open and for birds to pour in, though none of the sort seemed to happen.

With a reflective nod, Lillie raised her head and peered up a ladder leading to a loft bed. Nothing but folded blankets and a yellow pillow remained on its surface. No one had slept there for a very long time. Sinking to the ground, the girl crouched and pulled her knees to her chest. "Yes, it's empty!" Lillie sobbed in sour disappointment. "Just who was I expecting to find? I don't know who she is or what happened to her, but I feel so terrible and I want to see her right now!_"_

The door in the hallway creaked open– its door hinges screeching. Shocks shot through Lillie's body and she shook in fright as the heavy footsteps pounded closer. These were not the light footsteps of a fellow female dorm mate. These were the steps of the violent intruder who had been ransacking Pike's room. Lillie closed her eyes and held her breath; every muscle in her arms and legs tensed as she regretted not running away from the dorm when she had the chance. When a rough hand grabbed her shoulder, she screamed deliriously and nearly fainted.

"WHERE IS SHE?" a booming voice accompanied the hand.

"KYAAA–" Lillie screamed from her gut and dramatically held her face, her morbidness forcing her to live-out her remaining moments as vivaciously as possible. "YAAAAAA–"

"Shut up!" the voice yelled, shaking her in desperation, "Look at me!"

Giving it up, Lillie leaned back. Holding her face as far away from the intruder as possible, she slowly pried one eye open. Through the dim moonlight she could recognize a familiar dark bob of hair and two equally dark eyes. They were winced at her in extreme annoyance. "Senior Fakir?" Lillie realized aloud, immediately confused. Her mind could not fathom as to why HE of all people was in the girl's dorm, especially at this late hour– and especially in Pike's room. And especially while trashing it. _A student conspiracy against the Class Rep, Pike? _she wondered. Before she could inquire, Fakir interrupted her.

"–Where is Duck?" he demanded once again, less forcefully but still as panicked.

"Duck? Weren't you looking for Pike?"

"No, I am looking for Duck," Fakir answered through clenched teeth. "What did you troublemakers do with her?"

Lillie gazed up at Fakir, her mouth agape. "You're asking for a _her_, but then you're asking for Duck– the new boy? I don't get it."

Fakir gulped, realizing his mistake. Due to his panic, he had slipped up and revealed their secret. Regardless, he was determined to wriggle free from this blunder. "That is..." he paused, thinking carefully before speaking again. "Pike and Duck are missing now, but I was _actually_ looking for her. By her, I mean Pike. By troublemakers, I meant you and Duck. But I'm mostly looking for _Duck_." After this, he gave up trying to sound meaningful and instead resorted to shouting. "Whatever! I don't have time for this! Where is Pike?"

"You're terribly confusing."

"Of course! It's three in the morning; it's only natural that we'd get confused," Fakir declared angrily. "Just tell me where Pike is and I'll leave."

"Hmm." Pursing her lips and twiddling her thumbs, Lillie gave the strangest expression, which made Fakir feel very uncomfortable.

"What?"

"So," she schemed aloud, "to act so shameless– breaking into the girl's dormitory and all– you're really in love with either Pike or Duck, isn't that so?"

Fakir choked, taken aback by her observation.

"How romantic!" Lillie cooed, holding her face and writhing as if she just couldn't stand it. "If it actually were Duck... Why– that would just be even more scandalous!"

"How absurd," Fakir said shortly, backing away from the moonlight to hide his red face. "They're in danger, that's all. Those two... and that foolish Memory Recovery Club. It's causing all kinds of problems– messing with something it shouldn't... It's dangerous and if you're trying to protect it, you're only part of the problem. Now..."

Lillie's eyes dimmed. Bringing her hands away from her face, she had gazed up at him solemnly, silencing him. "Memories? Problems? What's wrong with wanting to find something that was once yours?" she asked. "Isn't it a terrible feeling when you've misplaced something? When you lose track of something you love... Even you must understand this feeling, too."

"That is..." Fakir wasn't sure how to answer. Though he was certain that Lillie was still suggesting his love for Duck in a roundabout way, he couldn't bring himself to protest.

"Pike is attending The King's Ball in the woods. For the club," Lillie divulged. "Duck probably got invited there, too."

"A ball?" Fakir echoed, skeptical of whether there were any places in the woods suitable for such a party. "Where?"

"I don't know, only club members know. But..." Lillie tapped her chin in thought. "I saw Pike go north into the woods. She said something about a tower covered in ivy."

Upon hearing this ominous news, Fakir could barely breath. His body stiffened– and though mortified– he forced himself to turn away. Unable to manage another word, he left Lillie in the abandoned room. _Without me even deciding anything, Duck will become the heroine of my stories... But why?_ he wondered, heated anger rising from his brow as he realized that Duck was falling in line with the story he had recently written. _That story was... a writing exercise. Something for Autor to critique. But now Duck's trapped in it as the princess? My stories are doing this again... They're acting beyond my control. They won't listen to me!_

Unthinkingly hasty, the knight rushed into the woods to search for his duck. Unbeknownst to him, however, the girl he had recently met with had gone back to her room, thrown on her blue hooded shawl, and snuck out of the girl's dormitory– shadowing ever so close behind him.

* * *

In the glowing, amber banquet hall, Duck sat seated on the King's right hand side. In the expanse before her stretched an absurdly long dinner table at which everyone in attendance sat. Duck gulped as she peeked about, for fellow students wearing their best attire murmured and eyed her suspiciously in return. _Oh no! Do they recognize me from school? _Duck worried. _I'm dressed as a girl tonight, too._

The King, taking his golden goblet in hand, sipped slowly from it and threw back his head, and just has he had done that, all the club members in attendance went silent. "Mademoiselle Duck," the King began, speaking just loud enough for his nearest courtiers to hear. "The startled frown on your face tells me that you have many questions which you wish to ask, no?"

"Eep?" Duck squeaked, hitting her chest to quiet her nervous hiccup. "I mean, yes. I do! If you don't mind me speaking so boldly, I... Well. I don't understand what this extravagance is, all around me– and I certainly don't understand why you're a _king_ all of a sudden!" With a shaking hand she picked up her frosted champagne glass, touching its etched rose motif with her fingers. In apprehension she wondered, _certainly I can ask him such questions, I won't offend him, right? He can't be an actual king– one who beheads people for their insolence, right?_

In a grave manner, the king set his fine golden goblet back down on the table. Taking a rich moment, he spent it freely before finally speaking again, and in the most chilling of curious mysteriousness, he said: "A year ago– this town, this forest, and this school– mysteriously changed. All of our dreams came to an end. Or, as I like to put it, one single dream played to its finale. As we awoke, we rubbed our sleepy eyes and quickly forgot everything... This world, which was once so dreamlike, was robbed of its fantasticalness and shoved back into the frigid, ugly cellar of terrible reality."

All around him, the King's club members gasped, almost as if on cue. For a moment, Duck wondered if she were actually sitting on a stage, for it felt as if a burning spotlight was shining down on her and King Femio.

"But, we can not forget such a beautiful dream, no," the King continued, closing his eyes and sweeping his hand outwards as if distributing his kingliness. "Every so often, our hearts murmur recollections of that brilliant dream. Presque vu. Though we have mostly forgotten, we can still _feel_. Well. All of these club members have mostly forgotten, but not I. I still have my Kingly memory. And you?" He turned and gazed at Duck, causing the whole table to shift their attention to her.

"I..." she breathed, clenching her fist tightly to her collarbone. "I... I can remember everything."

Once again, the club members gasped all around her– increasing the drama of the moment. She could only wonder what their deal was. Somewhere towards the middle of the long table she looked, and when she did, she found Pike's familiar and concerned face. The sight of this made Duck feel very relieved.

"As you all know," King Femio said, quieting them, "this tower is a physical example of my great powers. If she is indeed telling the truth, we will all learn of it soon. Our memories are gathering into a storm. Once it is done, our dream world shall return, and along with all its blissful wonder. In that event, I shall invite you to a coronation ball."

Once again, the club members murmured amongst each other, giving aside glances to Duck.

"It feels like I've seen her before," Duck heard someone say. "Duck."

"And that name is familiar too," a louder murmur came.

_I need to get out of here before they figure it out!_ Duck writhed in her seat, her eyes widening as servers in mob caps and aprons carted in long trains of covered silver platters. The carts rolled past in an endless line, and Duck– overwhelmed– could only hope for an end to it. Bowls spun on ice as sauces were poured, salad was thrown into the air, mountains of potatoes settled, and a massive roasted bird was plunked down on the table before the king.

"Ah, Duck," the king laughed. "Would you like some... duck?" He dug into the bird with a sword-sized carving knife, much to the horror of the pale girl.

"N-no thank you!" she sounded out, struggling to steady her rapid breathing. Without warning, a whole fleet of bowls landed on the table under her nose, with arms carrying and positioning them in complete orchestration.

"Your soup, Your Majesty," grumbled a girl with a fake, pasted-on mustache. She presented a wash-basin sized bowl to Femio.

"My favorite part," the King proclaimed, raising a ladle-sized spoon over his head. Dipping it in, he carefully raised it to his lips and sipped.

It was as he rested the spoon at his mouth that the whole table fell silent. Unbeknownst to the King, a giant golden ring, as large as a crown but as thin as a pencil, hung ridiculously from around his spoon. No one dared to alert him until he finally noticed the awkward thing. "Why," he suddenly cried out, "What's this! Was the cook playing ring toss near _my_ soup? Who is responsible for this?"

Duck gulped as she realized that it was the ring retrieved from the magical walnut shell. Somehow, it must've fallen off her head and into the soup she had seasoned.

The servers stopped to talk amongst each other, all before one arrived and whispered into the ear of the fake-mustached girl. "The soup was fixed by the kitchen's new girl," she grumbled. "She was brought in only this evening. We're certain that she's responsible for this outrage."

"Good work. But I must know... how old is she?"

"No older than Your Grace."

Femio sat and thought on this for awhile, all before energetically raising his arm. "Bring her to me," he said. And as soon as he said this, half the servers scurried off, taking more than half the food carts with them.

_Oh no! _Duck thought, covering her mouth. _That's supposedly me! But I'm not in the kitchen right now– and come to think of it– I was supposed to be back there by now! I've spent too much time at the ball, and surely, the chef must be angry at me since I broke my promise... _Knowing she had to leave, she grasped the table and rose from her seat, immediately catching the attention of the King himself.

"Not hungry?" he asked, bidding her to sit back down. "Or are you eager to prove that your memories are complete?"

"Prove?" she echoed, unsure of what he meant.

"The startled tremble in your voice tells me that you are confused," Femio declared, throwing his arms back and striking a pose.

"Uh-eheheh..." Duck could only laugh.

"But fear not. Follow me, and we'll check right away. You see... there is a method of measuring your memory."

Duck jumped when the seat practically slid out from under her. Just as she had regained balance, two servers took her in arm and ushered her away, with Femio following freely by their side.

Up a twisting staircase without railings Duck was dragged, finally stopping before the open doorway of a gigantic ivory Bornholm clock. Its pendulum stopped swinging as it saw the King, and so the swinging thing retreated into the wall's side to allow His Majesty's passage into the room within.

"Right beyond here," Femio said, offering Duck his arm so they could enter the clock. "The rest of you are excused!"

Without much say on the manner, Duck was dragged the rest of the way through until she entered a round room with a stone speckled floor. Blue light filtered down over her, and it wasn't until she looked up that she saw where it was coming from.

Suspended high above them hovered a massive, clear vessel filled with blue water; a giant see-through teapot of sorts. Duck wasn't quite sure what it was, but the swimming blue light falling over her from it fogged her mind and made her feel nostalgic. Looking up through the dark blue water made her mind recall precious memories– memories of a school trip where she had peered into a dimly-lit aquarium with her friends, much like this. In her ears, she could hear the distant sounds of a prickling celesta and the rising, sliding notes of a glass harmonica.

_Where's this music coming from? And..._

"Where's all the fish?" Duck couldn't help but wonder aloud. There was a presence in the water, but yet she could see nothing.

"That up there is a reservoir of our memories. A glass barometer, or storm glass, for the pressure of our collective conscience," Femio rambled, holding his hand over his heart. Leaving her side, he traveled around back to an iron spiral staircase which reached halfway up the enormous glass vessel's side. "See its tapering spout? It is much like a teapot's, though longer and more slender," he said, his regal voice pouring down as he climbed. "Though you might think that this spout looks more like a swan's neck... Right, Mademoiselle Duck?"

"But, what does it do?" she murmured to herself. She didn't expect him to hear her, but he did anyway.

"The water is rising in the neck. But also, there's more water in the glass," he said. "Just by you being here in this tower... no, just by you entering my palace, you've managed to fill it up this much. Queenly memory, indeed. Most of the memories now swimming in here are yours."

"You... my... What?" Duck said, entirely baffled. "I came here to tell everyone my memories, not to turn them into water in a see-through teapot!"

"Please don't fret. These memories are still inside you. And at the right time, they will all be dispensed in a great storm and everything will be back to as it was. No need for your worries or your words."

"A storm?" Duck repeated, relieved but full of doubt. "Everyone's memories will return with just some rain?"

"Of course, Mademoiselle Duck. That is the nature of rain."

"And when _will_ it rain?"

"It seems we still need a bit more memory to fill the glass. I'd say... a Knightly amount of memory would do the trick."

"A nightly?"

"No, a knightly!" Femio roared.

Duck was very unsure. Both things sounded exactly the same to her.

The King's attention was cut short when the pasted-on mustache girl suddenly arrived. For a moment, she looked up at the King, seemingly flummoxed by the tall place to which he had climbed in such a short amount of time.

"Your... Highness," the mustache-girl grumbled roughly. "We've been unable to locate the new kitchen girl. And we're having troubles with getting answers from the chef."

_Why is she wearing a mustache?_ Duck grew increasingly distracted by it. _I don't get it. Wait. _Duck held her head in panic._ There's no time to be pondering pasted-on mustaches! I'M the new kitchen girl! And the poor chef must be getting in trouble because of me!_

"The chef, hm? I guess he'll need a little persuasion." As soon as the king had said this, he jumped from the staircase and onto an adjacent pole– sliding a long ways down.

Duck balled her fists and held her breath as he landed– safely. With his servant in lead, they both busily left the room. A split second later, however, the King stuck his head back in through the doorway. He had forgotten something.

"Oh. And please wait for me here, Mademoiselle Duck," he commanded. "Or I'll be VERY displeased."

Duck jolted at these threatening words and the king left again. In spite of his threat, she was still eager to get to away. But she soon heard familiar footsteps fast approaching.

_~The King leaves and a stranger approaches. Can a Duck also be a Queen?~_

* * *

I'm very sorry for neglecting this story. I hope this chapter was long enough to make up for it.


	18. Princess Thousandfurs

Once upon a time, there was a princess who donned a fur patchwork coat and ran away into the woods. Tired from her journey, she fell asleep in a tree hollow and was found by a king and his hunt the next morning. Charmed by her strange appearance, the king had her live in his castle and work as a kitchen servant.

One day, there was a ball and the princess-turned-servant begged the head chef to allow her to go. She was allowed, but only for a little while, and only after he broke an entire breadbox over her head. Cleaning herself up, she donned a walnut shell dress– the golden one which shone as brightly as the sun– and she danced all night at the ball with the king. Right before she had to leave he stopped her to say: "Wait. You are so interesting, yet I've heard nothing about you. First off, where are you from?"

"I am from Breadbox," the girl answered, bowing and leaving to return to the kitchen. Seasoning the king's soup with the salty spice she had once learned to blend, she dropped in one of her mother's treasures as well and the king found it.

The princess carried on like this ball after ball, seasoning and dropping each of her treasures into his soup until he found her and married her. But, was she truly a wise and wily princess– or was it all just a happy accident?

* * *

Duck held a fist to her chest as the familiar-sounding footsteps drew nearer and nearer. _I need to get out of here and get back to the royal kitchen before I burden the chef! _she thought; _But at the same time, someone I know is coming right through that door. Ooh… Who could it be?_

After what seemed like two years, Pike appeared just as surprisingly as her footsteps– her serious face softening when she saw Duck standing before the giant clock pendulum's doorway. "Duck!" Pike said, grabbing the girl's shoulders. "Were you granted a noble position yet by the King?"

"A wha?"

"I mean, were you made a Queen or something?" Pike rushed, shaking Duck slightly.

"Uh. No, I was just showed that thing over there." Duck faced the big glass barometer hanging in the center of the room. "I was told it was being filled up with everyone's patchy memories… The King said I filled it up quite a bit."

"And so you did." Pike inspected the glass wondrously from afar. "It wasn't nearly that full when I saw it this evening." She then inspected Duck. "Speaking of this evening, why did you come through the woods alone?"

Duck pointed to herself. "I wasn't supposed to?"

"No! In the note I said I'd be waiting in the town square for you– you know– so we could walk here together. I waited all evening until I finally gave up." Pike closed her eyes solemnly. "Still, I'm relieved you somehow managed to show up. I was sure I'd be in big trouble."

Ignoring the last part of her friend's statement, Duck rifled through her pockets for the note.

"Hm?" Pike emitted. "What are you looking for, Duck?"

"Your note!" Duck said. "Though, it seems I no longer have it."

"That's kinda surprising, considering how my notes are very reliable these days. Especially in school. It's how I became class rep after all."

"Hm…" Duck pondered. "Oh yeah. I need to get back to the royal kitchen now, I think they're looking for me because I goofed up and all!" She clapped her hands together. "Then I need to go back."

"Oh man. Let me guess." Pike grinned knowingly. "Was that YOU who dropped that big 'ol gold ring into the King's soup?"

"I didn't mean to!"

"I'm sure you didn't. Come on, let's hurry before the King fires the chef. Literally." Pike grabbed the girl when she tried to go out the pendulum doorway. "Hold on a moment, you won't make it down there before the King does if you go the same way as him. I know a shortcut."

Duck's eyes shone at this. "A shortcut?"

"Yes, come over here. Come on, don't be scared." At the far end of the room, Pike squeezed Duck into a very small elevator in the wall. A dumbwaiter.

"This is the shortcuwww?" Duck muffled out, smashing her face into her legs upon being compressed into the tiny space.

"Yup," Pike said, closing the dumbwaiter's doors. "It's a straight-shot to the kitchen from here. Hold on tight and keep your hands, arms, legs, and limbs inside the vehicle at all times." She took ahold of the dumbwaiter's rope.

"Uh," Duck emitted, balking at that last thing Pike had said. "This won't hurt at all, will i–"

Pike let go of the rope and listened to her friend scream all the way down. "Oh wait. Was I supposed to hold onto the rope?" she thought aloud. "Hm, too bad Lillie isn't here."

Down and down Duck fell, her screams being swallowed up by the roof of her own mouth. When her falling subsided, it was with a spine-shattering crash that thankfully did not shatter her poor spine. "Ooh," Duck groaned, shushing up when she heard voices outside her little box.

"I am the King," Femio's voice rang out; "This wondrous tower, these wonderful things… They're all because of me! How could you betray me when all I asked for in return is total devotion? Is that too much? Am I a sinner for expecting such things? Am I getting ahead of me self? For shame!"

"No, Your Highness!" the pig chef answered. "I simply–"

"Enough! I won't take any more excuses, especially concerning that girl. I just can't bear it." The King sobbed lightly. "I'm afraid you don't love me anymore."

Upon hearing this, Duck opened the dumbwaiter door slightly and peeked out, catching a glimpse of two shadowy figures flickering through fiery light on the adjacent brick wall. With an outstretched hand, the King's shadow grasped the chef's, of whom began to squeal and shrink in size– smaller and smaller– until he became simply a tiny squealing creature in the King's grip.

Gasping, Duck placed a hand on her heart and felt something stuffed in her dress bodice. Trembling, she reached in and pulled out the magical starry hat which turned her duck-to-girl. "How'd this get in here?" she asked, noticing a bit of fur sticking out from it. Pulling at it curiously, the entire patchwork cloak came out, which was exactly what she needed. Slipping it back on, she lost her balance and fell out of the dumbwaiter in the process.

"Who's there?" the King asked, startled. A piglet squirmed in his hand.

Duck gulped at this. _Did the King do that?_ she wondered;_ Does this mean he has powers? _"M-me, Your Majesty," she said, curtseying. "The new girl that was brought in here today. I made your soup."

"You did, hm?" The King tucked the flailing pig under one arm and arrogantly smiled at Duck. "My exquisitely dressed senorita, though I am distracted by your feminine charms, I must return to the subject in vogue and ask if you, perchance, dropped anything of value into my chicken noodle soup this evening."

"No, I don't believe so," Duck answered, curtseying. "But if I did, I'm very very sorry. I was in charge of handling the soup after all."

The King held his palm to his forehead. "I see. Then if it's like this, I can't remain angry at such a lovely diamond in the rough. Here." He tossed the pig at Duck. "Please release him back into the wild so he may live as his instincts dictate."

Duck fumbled to catch the little pig. "Him?" she asked, an eyebrow twitching as he snorted at her in response. "Will he be ok out there all alone?"

"Of course! Once released, he will become a fierce boar. It's his natural state." The King began unbuttoning his shirt, much to Duck's chagrin. However, he simply revealed a necklace full of keys, from which he plucked one. "Please take this key here with you and let the pig out through the side door in the study."

Duck took the offered key with uncertainty. "The study?" she asked.

In that moment, the servant girl with the pasted-on mustache dashed in. "Sir, the one with the Queenly memory is missing from the Weather Room," she reported, saluting to the King. "I've deployed the others to scour the grounds for her."

"What? But I haven't even made her my Queen yet!" The King cried, running his fingers through his hair dramatically. "I must find her immediately!"

"Excuse me Your Highness, please pardon my rudeness," Duck interrupted, "but where's the study?"

"Oh yes, oh, just go out down the hall over there until you find a big room," the King said, gesturing at a door and excusing her. After he left with his mustachioed servant, Duck left out the door and went down the long long hall until she found a grand doorless room with towering shelves on every wall and an abundance of colorful books.

"Wow…" Duck uttered, holding the pig in her arms as she wandered about the shelves. "There's so many books! I bet Fakir would find this place very interesting– huh?" She stopped. From the corner of her eye, a light flashed at her and caught her attention. Coming nearer, she discovered it was simply a book with a polished tin spine. "How novel," she said, reading its title. "_An Entire Collection of Abridged Classics _by C.M. IV. Hmm. Well that's kinda vague." She held the pig in one hand and pulled the book out with the other. "What kind of classics? From what era?" She searched the book's cover as much as she could but could not judge anything. "Well…" She glanced around shiftily before tucking the book into her fur coat. "The King has so many books, surely he won't miss this one. Also, I'll return it right away just in case he ever does! Yup." Satisfied with her illogical reasoning, she focused back to her assigned duty, located the big glass french doors at the far end of the study and let herself out with the King's key.

Putting down the pig after stepping foot outside, Duck watched as he turned around just long enough to smile at her and run off into the bushes. And so, just like him, the girl wandered off into the forest once again.

* * *

Traversing the Black Forest, the knight stood still when he heard sounds in the bush behind him.

"Who's there?" Fakir demanded, his hand clutching the hilt of the sword he'd brought. No sound answered him so he approached the bush wearily and looked over. Coming out from the top of the bush was– oddly enough– a bit of red cloth. Upon closer inspection, he found it was a cape or cloak. He stood back. "You, I know you're in there," he said. "You've been following me ever since I left your dorm, haven't you?"

A cry finally answered. "Aw, how did you know?" Lillie's voice said. She poked her head out and removed her red hood to reveal her frizzy blonde head. "I thought I was super quiet, too." She pouted.

"How troublesome. What are you following me for?"

"You're going off to go battle, right? I just wanted to witness the epic and vicious outcome!"

"Battle?" Fakir grimaced. "What are you going on about? I'm looking for Duck, I don't have time for this–" Another sound rattled in the bushes up ahead and the both of them jumped.

"Oh my, I'm so scared." Lillie trembled. "How exciting!"

"Shh, don't move." Fakir went further up ahead to investigate the newer shubbery-sourced sounds. Lillie, however, didn't listen to a word he'd said and followed right behind him all the way.

"Not again!" a small voice whispered behind the foliage, followed by a hush and further whispered and yet indeterminate words.

Fakir scoffed sharply and completely lost it. "What. Is the WHOLE GIRL'S DORMITORY FOLLOWING ME?" he yelled, causing two figures to topple out of the bush before him. It was Duck and Pike, groaning and writhing in pain since they'd managed to snag a few branches and even each other on the way out.

"Quaaaaa," Duck said.

"Ow, my esophagus," Pike cried.

"Duck? Duck!" Fakir said, bending down beside her. "Are you hurt? What happened?"

"I'm ok," she answered, dazed. "The King gave me a key to go outside, to let the pig out, and I got lost at some point, but Pike found me and she's walking me home now ok."

"The King? Escape? Tell me everything."

Pike, after taking her eyes off of the two, discovered Lillie standing behind Fakir. "Huh?" Pike said, pointing at the girl. "What are YOU doing here?"

"Fakir was making a ruckus trashing your room so I came along with him to see the lovers battle," Lillie said, cradling her cheeks. "Oh yes!"

"Wait, you were with Fakir?" Pike glanced between her and him incredulously. "Fakir! Are you cheating on Duck?"

"Ah!" Lillie gasped, scorning him. "How could you?"

"Hey, don't act so surprised! You're the one he's with!"

"Cheating?" Duck warbled, thoroughly confused by her old friends' nitwit antics.

"Enough nonsense!" Fakir snapped, silencing the two. "You idiots need to stop following Duck and I. Furthermore, you need to stop pulling her into your dangerous schemes." He crossed his arms.

Lillie stared up at him in absolute wonder. "She?" she repeated him, alluding to Duck's gender.

"Oh sh–"

"–Duck's a GIRL?" Lillie cried out, writhing in bliss. "A girl, disguised as a cute boy, roommates with another cute boy– did you always know? Or did you discover her one day and blackmail her into being your love slave? Oh, how incredible! So steamy!"

Pike shook her head. "Sounds like a trashy love novel," she commented.

Fakir grasped his reddening face in disturbed humiliation. "Shut up!" he spat. "Stop jumping to conclusions! Not another word, _or else._" His eyes pierced through the two and immobilized them with icy fear.

"H-hey?" Duck said, butting into the very conversation about her. "Pike? Lillie? I don't know if you remember this any, but you two were always my best friends in the past, so, um… Could you keep this all a secret please?"

"I'll take this secret to the grave!" Lillie blurted; "Just as long as I get to see all the sweet action!"

"Come on, you don't _really_ want to see all that, do you?" Pike asked.

"Idiots," Fakir sputtered, pulling Duck up by her wrist and leading her away. "Come on, we're going back. It's almost morning and I didn't get any sleep thanks to you."

"Oh, sorry…" Duck said, lowering her head. "If it helps you catch up on sleep later, you don't have to do my essay, I'll do it myself."

"Hmph. What is with that coat you're wearing? Did you _take_ those walnuts in my desk?"

"I thought they'd be useful!"

"And I bet they were."

Pike and Lillie watched, dumbfounded, as the knight and the girl wandered away. Knowing they were sleep-deprived as well, they followed and eventually made their way back– their tired bodies nestling into their own beds by the time the sun rose.

_~One can't judge a book by its cover but they can certainly discover it by so. What secrets does its mysterious contents hold?~_

* * *

**Fwfff, sorry for the stupidly long wait. I brainstormed on this after re-watching the whole series on Netflix and managed to whip a new chapter up. Hope the magic stays. *Crosses fingers***


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